#WE YEARN FOR THE MINES FATHER

[blujayonthewing]

meraki and hiraeth are really fucking good names for elyss actually and I'm really mad about it

[homunculus-argument]

Once upon a time there was an Entity, that saw humans for the first time and decided to want one of its own. Gathering together tools, fruit trees, running water, songbirds, sunshine and shade, the Entity created a little container that had everything a human could possibly want and need, and then gently picked one up, and placed her in the enclosure.

"There", the Entity said, "you are mine now, and I have put you here where you have everything you want, because I love you so much. Are you happy?"

"No", the human said, "for I miss my mother and father, and I miss my sister and her children, and I cannot be happy without them." The Entity listened and left, heading back to where it took the human in order to find her kin.

"There", the Entity said, "I have brought your family together, so you are no longer apart. Are you happy now?"

"No", the human said, "for my sister's children miss their father, and my sister misses her too, and none of us can be happy if they are unhappy." The Entity listened and left, heading back to where it toook the humans in order to find the one it neglected to take.

"There", the Entity said as it put down the one last missing human, whose children ran to meet him, crying and laughing from relief. The Entity addressed them all. "Now you have all your family. Are you happy now?"

"No", the humans said, "for my mother misses the neighbours she gossips with, my father misses the friends with whom he played cards, the children miss their playmates, and..." This time the Entity did not even listen to the end, but left back to the place where it had found the humans, and gently scooped up every single human in the city, bringing them to their new beautiful little enclosure.

"There", the Entity said, addressing the whole colony it had gathered into this beautiful paradise that it had made especially for them. "I have now brought all of you together, so none of you are apart. Are you happy now?"

"No", the humans said, "for we miss our beautiful homes, we miss our familiar streets. We miss the fountains and statues and the calls of city birds, and we cannot be happy if we can never go back home again."

So the Entity left, went back to the city that was now empty, carefully picked up the whole thing, and moved it to the enclosure, careful to not alter a single detail, and put everything as it should be. "There", it then said to the humans, "now your homes are here, too. Are you happy now?"

"No", the humans said, "for-"

The Entity sighed in frustration, and began unbraiding the weaves of time, undoing the past several days so that none of this had ever happened, as a creature that wants and yearns so much is simply too much trouble to own.

[callsign-fox]

You Can Have Me - Rafe

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader (Jj's twin sister)

** MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU ARE NOT UP TO DATE**

18+ ONLY!!

Written with the help of my darling BFF @fanficgirl429

This is my first dip into OBX and I am not disappointed in myself :P Leave some love if you like it xo

---------------------------------------

I jolted awake, the torment of my latest nightmare abruptly dissipating. The early morning sunlight caressed my skin as it filtered through the delicate white curtains. The movement beside me anchored me to the reality that I was home in North Carolina, secure, if only for the moment. 

“You good?” Kie asked beside me in a sleepy tone.

My body resisted as I cast aside the comforter and compelled myself to rise from the bed.

“I don’t think ‘good’ is the right word,” I muttered, grabbing my sports bra from the floor and moving toward the bathroom. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out before rolling away from me. 

Upon our return from Morocco, the stark reality of having lost both our home and business hit us with overwhelming force. Rafe Cameron, who seemed the most improbable of heroes, extended the hospitality of his beachfront home to us pogues. John B would say this was a gesture to Sarah and the fact Rafe would soon be an uncle. Conversely, Sarah claims it was because of me. I chose to ignore her. 

It may be difficult to comprehend, but experiencing homelessness was not the most distressing event of the past month. Upon our return home, we found ourselves one member short of our original group. My sole family member, my twin brother, is now lost to me permanently. My heart has been irreparably broken, as the only true family I ever knew was taken away by our estranged and unstable father.

I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. 

It has been more than three weeks since that happened. While I have not fully come to terms with the loss of a significant part of myself, I have become emotionally numb to it. I could not endure another expression of sympathy or inquiry about my well-being from anyone in the community. With that being said, for the past week, I have rarely stepped outside the small room that Kie and I shared.

I brushed my teeth and then swiftly threw my hair up in a loose ponytail. Once I was done, I grabbed some running shorts and paired it with a loose tee, desperate to release endorphins. 

“I’m going for a run, I’ll be back in an hour.” 

The door was already shut but I smiled at the muffled ‘be careful’ from Kie. 

My sneakers slid on effortlessly, and before anyone had the chance to engage me in conversation, I exited. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I halted suddenly, intrigued by the sound of music coming from one of the open garages. It was a quarter past seven, and we were not particularly a lively bunch this early in the day.

As I approached the open door, Rafe came into sight. He was standing there, humming to the music, dressed in a snug white t-shirt and boxers. A wave of butterflies stirred in my stomach at the mere sight of him, evoking a mix of confusion and excitement within me. He glanced up from the bike, removing the black grease from his fingers onto his shirt.

“Y/N, hey.” 

I smiled at him as I leaned against the frame to the garage. “Hey Rafe.” 

A week prior to our departure for Morocco, I had spent hours wrapped up in this man. His skin pressed against mine, his lips caressing every inch of my body. The mere recollection of those moments left me feeling lightheaded. However, since our return, our communication had dwindled to almost nothing. I stood at the door to his bedroom one night, desperate to feel him inside of me again, but terrified of being denied. I went to bed tense and alone. 

My body yearned for him once more as he gazed at me with his deep ocean blue eyes. It was evident that he was attempting to decipher my thoughts, his eyes narrowing while I remained silent.

“Are you ok?” he asked, leaning on his bike. 

I pulled myself from the trance and stepped further into the garage. “Please don’t ask me that, I’m sick of people asking me that.” 

He cocked his head to the side before dropping a tool in his toolbox. “Fine. Am I allowed to ask if you are having a good morning?” 

“I am so far, but maybe check back later as things can change at any given moment. I’m going to go for a run.” 

Rafe nodded and reached down for something I couldn’t see. “Cool, cool. I would have thought maybe you were going to the shooting range or something.” 

I decided it was best to play dumb. “Why would I be going to a shooting range?” 

His hand resurfaced holding a black gun. 

Shit. 

I looked at the gun then back at him. I was careless, and couldn’t remember where I’d left. It must have been in the back of his truck. “I can explain.” 

“I actually have a few questions. One, where the fuck did you get this? And two, are you insane?” 

This wasn’t at all how I was hoping this morning would go. “Look, I know how to use it. I’ve been practicing.” 

“Oh, you know how to use it? That makes me feel much better,” he laughed, removing the clip and putting it back into the bag he pulled it out of. “What are you doing, Y/N? Are you planning on going and killing Groff yourself?” 

“Why not?” 

Rafe’s eyes widened as he straddled the bike. “For fuck sake, Y/N.” 

I moved closer, standing right beside him and the bike. “Why not, Rafe? I don’t want anyone else hurt, and we know he isn’t above killing his own children let alone my friends. I can do this, I have to do this!”

“And what if he kills you first?” 

As if I didn’t think about that. “That’s definitely a possibility.” 

“A possibility…” He had that crazed look we all knew so well. “Do you even know where he is?” He asked, clearly irritated as he rubbed his eyes. 

His question surprised me. “No, I don’t.” 

Rafe nodded, then reached for a wrench in his toolbox. “Alright…” 

I leaned forward trying to catch his gaze, “Alright what?” 

“Once you know where he is, you let me know.”  

This time I laughed. “Why would I do that, you’d try and stop me.”

“I won’t. When you know where he is, I’ll go with you and we’ll kill the son of a bitch.” 

I stood there silent for a moment, confused at the sharp turn the conversation just took. He continued on his bike as if no words had just been exchanged. Like neither of us were just perfectly ok with committing murder three seconds ago. 

“Rafe…I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You didn’t ask, I volunteered.” 

He threw the wrench back into the box and reached out to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. “I’m supposed to be the crazy one, but right now you’re scaring me a little.” 

My hand instinctively reached for his abdomen, applying a gentle pressure against his muscles.

“You scare me too.” 

An unexpected rush of life filled my heart, which throbbed so vigorously that I worried it might burst from my chest. He moved in closer, our lips nearly aligned, brushing softly against one another without fully making contact.

His calloused hands traversed the bare skin of my waist, then stealthily slipped under the waistband, pulling me tightly against his thigh. He smiled at me, and I could feel the heat rising, a flush spreading between my legs.

“Y/N…” his lips brushed my cheek, before moving to my ear sending a shiver down my spine to where my body wanted him most. ”I need you, and if Groff takes you away before I even get to have you…let’s just say things won’t end well.” 

I moved my hand down to his boxers, slipping beneath the elastic. My fingers curled around his firm erection, gliding back and forth. “Rafe, you can have me whenever you want me.” 

Rafe moaned, biting softly on the nape of my neck. 

He gently pulled me closer, lifting my leg so I could straddle the bike to sit on his lap. Our lips finally reunited, but this time there was no hesitation, only an intense desire. My arm encircled his neck as I leaned back on the handlebars, arching my back into him while feeling the ignition pressing against my shoulder blades. It didn't matter though, as I was completely enthralled with this man. 

Rafe withdrew slightly, his fingers gliding up my leg until they encountered my shorts. With a delicate motion, he eased them down, removing them as if he had performed this action countless times before. As he leaned in once more, his lips met my thigh, placing rough kisses upon the exposed skin. I arched my back as his mouth connected with my pulsating center, his thumb teasing the thin, damp fabric.

“Oh, god.” I let out a soft sound as he moved the loose fabric aside, teasing my sensitive area.

His tongue swirled over my core, and my body threatened to tip over the edge. I could feel him smiling as he devoured me, the sounds escaping me only egging him on further. He momentarily withdrew, prompting me to reach out in protest.

“I like you begging, but I’m just getting these out of the way so I can ruin you.” 

My underwear fell away effortlessly, and before I could utter another word, he returned to his position between my legs, guiding me nearer to my peak. The sensation coursing through me was the most intense I had ever experienced. His tongue glided over my center, while two fingers rhythmically entered and exited, propelling me toward the precipice of pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.” 

The apparent struggle in my voice served only to urge him to quicken his movements, and I was unable to withstand it any further. A delightful tingling spread throughout my body as I reached my peak, my heart racing and my breath becoming erratic.

Rafe reclined slightly before rising to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips, fully aware of the effect his actions had on me. His blue eyes roamed over my figure as he extended his hand toward me. I placed my hand in his, and he swiftly drew me up and guided me toward the wall. His hands descended to my waist, and he pivoted me so that my back was firmly against the wall.

“Should we stop?” Rafe asked, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. 

His boxers were halfway down his thigh when I looked up at him, towering over me with a devilish grin. “You’re so fucking funny.” 

He suddenly placed his lips against my neck, leaving a series of kisses before ultimately returning to my mouth. In a swift motion, he elevated my leg and pressed his aroused tip against my core.

“You’re nice and wet, all for me.” He whispered, biting my already inflamed bottom lip.

His length entered me effortlessly, the sensation of his movements eliciting soft moans. One of his hands firmly grasped my thigh, elevating my leg, while the other hand held my backside, his fingernails creating delicate crescent impressions as they traced my skin.

Rafe's movements began with a deliberate yet pressing urgency, intensifying with each thrust. I felt myself tighten around him as the well-known pleasure surged within me. His lips met mine, our tongues intertwining amidst our shared moans.

“Damn, you feel so good.” 

My hand clung to his shirt, pulling him tighter to me.

A wave of bliss enveloped me, my head tilting back as I softly uttered his name repeatedly. Rafe was just behind me, a deep groan escaping his lips as he nestled his face into the curve of my neck.

The two of us stood there for a moment, catching our breath. Rafe reached down and pulled his boxers back up before gently placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. 

“For that, with you,” he smiled and took a breath. “…I’d kill a hundred Groffs.” 

The expression in my face revealed my own satisfaction. He gently placed his hands on my cheeks and kissed me one final time, this time with significantly more passion.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally withdrew, his teeth grazing his lower lip as he returned to the project he had been engaged in earlier. "Are you still planning to go for that run?" he inquired, casting a glance in my direction.

I shook my head, “No, I think I’m good.”  

[lamemaster]

Made of Sugar

Request: Hi! Hope this finds you well, mind if i req for a Thranduil x reader where they're like telling legolas how they met, maybe they met during the war of the last alliance? anyways love ur work especially the angst but now i need some not angst? cus im actually going to cry lmao

Pairing: Thranduil x Wife Reader

Genre: Fluff

AN: This has been due a long time! I'm sorry for the delay but this writer suffers from smooth brain 98% of the time.

“Legolas Thranduilion!” Your voice rings out loud, breaking his thoughts. For once, he wishes his father's presence was there. “Have I not made it clear that you are not to go to the wine cellars?” You pinch your nose blinking furiously as was your habit when agitated. 

Legolas hasn’t known love stronger than the one he has felt for you, his eme. Your stories, your songs, the little stars you paint on the roof of his room– Legolas absorbs them with the wide-eyed devotion of a sunflower turning its face to the first rays of the sun.  

But all that love does not diminish the distress of your anger. You, the one who laughed most easily, whose smile could chase away any shadow, were now a storm cloud gathered over his head.

The familiar scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke that clung to you did little to soothe the storm brewing in your eyes. Legolas flinched – he knew the terrifying, steely glint that hardened your gaze when truly angered. It was a sight rarer than a dust storm in Greenwood, but all the more impactful when it came. 

 At barely 80 years old, facing your wrath felt far more daunting than any monstrous spider lurking in the Greenwood.

"You are too young," you said, your voice tight. "Just you wait until I tell Thranduil." You paced around the room, pinching the bridge of your nose, a telltale sign of your agitation. "Maybe he will listen and move the wine cellars away from the main palace."

Staring at the untouched cakes, Legolas yearned for nothing more than for this tension to pass. He longed to see your easy smile return.  The sight of untouched cakes, usually a source of joy, only emphasized the heavy weight of your displeasure. He longed for the days when your laughter filled the room, chasing away any shadow.

“Beloved queen of mine,” Thranduil sauntered in, his footsteps barely a whisper on the polished floor. The scent of pine needles and leather, a familiar trail, announced his presence even before he entered. “The cellar unfortunately cannot be moved.” Thranduil is already in the process of taking off his heavy robes while detangling his hair from the crown's tiny branches.

Legolas watched with a flicker of worry as your eyes narrowed in annoyance before you gave up to help his ada. "He went in there today," your gaze felt heavy on him even as you busied yourself helping Thranduil detangle the crown. "What if he drank your wine? That thing is disgusting and Legolas is too young. You must move the wine somewhere else." You placed the crown on the table.

Thranduil threw him an amused grin as your back remained turned to them as you instructed the staff to bring fresh snacks and tea. "What if I didn't get there in time…good thing Feren was kind enough to inform me."

"I am disappointed Legolas," Thranduil looked at him without an ounce of anger, and your glare at the king of Greenwood told him that this did not go unnoticed by you. "But I am sorry, my love," He looked up at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, "The cellars must remain untouched. I would never in a million ages, change the place of our first meeting."

Legolas' breath hitched in his throat. You frowned. And Thranduil snickered in delight.

"You cannot be serious!" You replied indignantly.

"You met in the wine cellars?!" Legolas asked at the same time.

"We did, ion," Thranduil adds before you can cover his lips with your palm. Thranduil throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the room. A weird sight to see you this flustered, this agitated.

"We did not!"

"We absolutely did!"

"Well, I was 120," you say, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "You were not  princeling."

The servants gawk at the term of endearment that slips past your lips. Some almost drop the trays of food as they put them in front of you. But both you and Thranduil are too taken by the task of bickering like decade-old elflings. "Oh yeah, I too was of age," Thranduil counters with a twinkle in his eye. "Almost of age. Only 4 years shy of it."

Thranduil straightens up, taking a playful bite into a fruit cake. "Four years too young, my love," you smirk, the topic of Legolas' transgression long forgotten. The steel of your rage softened into its original inky warmth.

"I acquiesce, my respected elder," Thranduil bows dramatically, sending another wave of laughter through the room. Legolas watched in amusement, a flicker of relief washing over him as the conversation shifted. Your voices rose in a playful argument.

Legolas, eyeing the untouched cakes, finally understood. Your gentle nature thrived beside his father, much like the sweetness of a cake is best appreciated with a pinch of salt.

[surielstea]

Midnight Meetings

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris are secretly mates and refuse to get caught, despite being deep in love.

Warnings: MINORS DNI | 18+ | smut | P in V | Fingering | praise | rough sex | pet names | overstimulation ||| lots of fluff :)

6.8k words

A/N: not proofread!

I knocked on the dark green door in front of me before backing away and hugging my navy blue cloak tighter to my body, my hood covering my face entirely as I stared down at my feet.

The door quickly swings open, revealing a curious red-headed male. I smile and even if he could only see the bottom half of my face, he'd recognize my grin anywhere.

"You don't look suspicious at all," Eris drawls as I welcome myself into his apartment. "Well, it's not like you can come visit me." I shrug off my cloak and hang it on the coat rack. "I would winnow right into your bedroom if you allowed me to." He states and I shake my head incredulously. "I have no doubt you would."

I whirl around, looking up at my mate with yearning eyes. "I missed you." He sighed, his large hands coming up to cup my jaw. "It's only been a few days." I excuse and he presses a kiss on my forehead. "A few days too long." He corrects, moving down and kissing the tip of my nose. "I'm here now." I remind and a smile curves his lips before I rise onto my toes and connect our lips, my chest pressing against his as I wrap my arms tighter around the back of his neck.

When I back away he looks at the clock on the wall, nearly a quarter past midnight. He knows I have to leave at dawn, less than six hours from now I'll be out of his grasp and back in my Court. "I'm so sick of these secret meetings." He grumbles, hands traveling from my jaw, past my shoulders, to my hands where he intertwined our fingers. I nod in agreement, tired from the amount of winnowing it took to get here.

"We should just tell your little group." He suggests as he pulls me over to his couch. "Are you kidding? They'll burn me at the stake." I snort and he plops down onto his sofa, I waste no time straddling his hips as he leans his back against the armrest, staring up at me lovingly. "Fire's such a horrible way to go out." He states, holding up his hand and I marvel as a small flame emits from the center of his palm. I grin wildly, the small fire flickering as I cup my hand over it, but it doesn't burn, it almost tickles with the way it dances along my skin.

"I love it when you do that," I murmur and he makes the flame slightly larger, illuminating my face and I can't help but unabashedly stare. "I could set entire forests to flame but you like this, a fire no larger than a candle." He observes and my eyes flick up to his, the fire reflecting in them. "Well anyone can have power, it takes control to do this." I cup my hand over the flame entirely and it goes out, his fingers curling around mine.

"You can thank my father for that." He grumbles and I shake my head. "It's different, more gentle." I smile. "Setting worlds to burn is all your father's doing, but this, you get this from your mother," I explain and he blinks, his cheeks staining with color. He swallows thickly before replying, "I love you." Is all he can get out and I giggle at the idea of making Eris Vanserra's mind go blank. "Love you too." I cup his cheek with my other hand before leaning in and slotting our mouths against each other.

The kiss alights like an ember, sparking flames to run down the line of my spine, his hands coming to my waist to keep me still, hugging me to him as if he needed me so much closer. "I missed you too," I whisper onto his lips. "Missed you so much." I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, burrowing into his warmth— afraid it would disappear and I'd be left in the cold, as well as the dark without his fire.

His hand comes to my cheek and he pulls away, thumb running over my bottom lip as he does so. "I don't want to waste our whole time having sex." He muttered and I smiled cheekily. "You think it's a waste?" I tease, hands coming to his shoulders.

"No. I just, I like talking too." He explained and I smiled before leaning in and pecking his lips. "Only teasing Eris." I hum in between kisses. "We can talk as long as you want," I flip off of his lap and cuddle into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder while my leg hooks around his torso. "Well, you can talk to me until dawn." I correct and he releases a long sigh at the limitation, his hand tracing up and down my arm, absentmindedly drawing hearts and spelling out his name.

"What do you have going on tomorrow?" I ask, my hand slipping under his shirt in craving for his warmth. "Lashing from my father, brothers trying to kill me, the usual." He lowly whistles and I frown, propping my chin up on his collarbone, staring up at him. "You don't even have any... General stuff going on?" I ask and a small smirk pulls at his lips.

"General stuff?" He mocks and I bury my face back into his chest. "Shut up, I don't know the terms," I murmur with embarrassment as he chuckles. "I'm the General of armies, there's no war ongoing at the moment." He informs and I roll my eyes. "Isn't there some preparation you need to do?" I flip back into his lap. "Are you calling war on me?" He arches a perfect brow and my other hand slips under his shirt.

"No Sir." I shake my head, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He lets a low grunt slip from his lips at the nickname and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his middle and propping my head up on his sternum, staring into his amber eyes as he watched me through his lashes.

"You just love to tease me don't you?" He hums, his hands coming to my waist and I nod brightly. "Because I'm the only one who can get away with it." I croon and he fights back a smile because he knows I'm right. "How so?" He tilts his head as if he doesn't already know he's head over heels. "Making you stumble over your words is so cute." I hum, nails lightly dragging along his toned abdomen. "I do not stumble over my words." He states it as if it's a fact. "Sure you don't my lord." I jeer, the nickname has his ears perking up, the casual intimacy making his body unsure how to act.

Eris had never gotten the love he deserved as a child, his mother gave him a peck on the cheek every now and then when he got to see her, but after his brother was born all of her attention quickly went to him. Eris understood, he was in his twenties by then, helped raise each of his brothers, and made sure they got the necessary love he didn't receive. Some of them were poisoned by their fathers' words and manipulations, the horrid male pitting his brothers against him, the boys he raised only for them to try and stab him in the back in foolish desire to become the sole Heir.

That's why when I met him, actually met him, I gave him every bare inch of my love, force-feeding it down his throat if I had to, in need to make him feel as cherished as he should've as a child. It pains me to know his father still has control at times, to think about the main reason I wasn't allowed to publicly love him.

My family was one thing, they truly loved me and would eventually understand why I was with Eris, but Beron, he'd use it against him, threaten me at every chance he got and it'd work on Eris. No matter how safe I was, if Beron somehow got his hands on me Eris didn't know how he'd act, doubted he'd even think beforehand, which scared the ever-living hel out of the prince.

"Have you gone quiet because you're afraid of being too tongue-tied?" I smile at him, my hand now running through his auburn hair. He nods silently and I giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. "I love you." I hum and he pales, the light dust of freckles along his cheeks coming to show. "My gods—you can't— it's mean of you to just say that." He stutters out and I snicker. "So flustered over a few words." I taunt and he releases a huff of defeat.

"How is it mean?" I ask, pushing the hair away from his eyes, and combing my fingers through the soft locks. "You say it so casually," His large hands drag up and down my waist. "It's odd how easily you say it." He explains and I smile softly at him, lifting from his chest so my face is hovering above his. "But it's how I feel." I reason with him and he looks up at me, his dark lashes fanning over his eyelids. "I mean it, I do love you." I reassured, remembering the first time I said it to him, how he carried me straight to the closest bedroom and didn't let me leave in the morning, said I had to stay another day as he held me to his chest and forbade me from leaving until later that night.

"I love you too." A genuine smile coming to his features, one of his hands reaching up to cup around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking over the line of my jaw. He pulls me down and I allow it, slotting my lips onto his. Warmth blossomed in my chest as his silken lips met with mine yet again, my mouth molding to his like he was made for me, made for kissing me only.

It doesn't take long until we're out of breath, his tongue in my mouth as I part my lips for him willingly, his hands running over any point of my body he could reach, hand on my thigh, pulling me higher up onto him. Sighs of devotion filled the silence of the room, his scent enveloping me, warm cinnamon and campfire embers surrounding me as I pressed my chest to his by arching my back.

He smiled into the kiss, using his hand on my cheek to guide me away from his lips, which I reluctantly pulled away from.

"What happened to talking?" He says and I frown. "I figured we had a better use of our mouths." I shrug and he sighs contentedly, wrapping both his arms around my middle and pulling me down onto him, flipping onto his side so we could lie facing each other, heads resting on the same pillow. "I don't want you to leave." I frown and I mirror it. "I don't want to either," I mutter. "And I'll have to leave a little earlier so I can shower the 'you' off of me," I add and he rolls his eyes, leaning down and stuffing his nose into the crook of my shoulder. "I like when you smell like me," He mumbles into my skin. "Tell those bastards who you belong to," He hummed, his tone determined and I let out a quiet laugh. "Mine." He mumbles into my neck, pressing soft kisses to my neck, up the column of my throat then back down to my shoulder. "All mine." He whispers, hugging me impossibly closer. "All yours." I soothe, scratching his scalp and he groans at the feeling, burrowing deeper into my shoulder. I smile and press a kiss to the top of his head.

I allow silence to settle over us. I knew he was tired, he had a meeting with his father and all his advisers today, which would drain anyone. He wrote me a note saying he needed to see me, that he didn't want to talk about what happened, just that he wanted me in his arms. I showed up as early as I could, which was midnight. The Night Court stays up late, making it far too difficult to sneak out.

His fingertips traced random shapes along my waist, then his name over and over again.

"Hey, Eris," I call. "Hm?" He mumbles back tiredly, fighting off the sleep in hopes of spending more time with me before I disappear in the mornings. "Do you want to get married?" I prompt and his ears perk up, eyes peeling open as he backs away from my neck so that his attention is entirely on me. "If that's what you want," He murmurs, eyes watching mine as if trying to get a read on my emotions. "It's just that, Rhys said the other day that you need to prove your loyalty to the Night Court since that whole Nesta thing didn't work," I explain and he's now fully awake. "What are you asking?" He runs a hand down my spine and I swallow. "Why haven't you proposed to me?" I frown and a small smile spreads across his face. "Because you're not a battle strategy my fawn." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips. "I don't want to marry you just because Rhys said so, I want it to be authentic." He hums, hand intertwining with my smaller one. "But I do, want to marry you." I reason with him and he grins childishly, kissing me again. "Then we'll get married." He whispers. "During the meeting next week Rhys is going to ask you what you want," I mutter and his head comes up to my face, rubbing over my cheekbone. "And I'll ask for your hand," He nods, understanding. "Exactly." I smile excitedly, hopeful that others will assume we fell in love after marriage.

He stuffs his face back into my shoulder, his embrace around me like a fireplace, reminding me of cuddling beside the hearth with a cup of tea just as hot.

My hands return to his hair, nails scratching his head lightly, sending him into a comfortable slumber, sleep finding him in the best of places with me in his arms as if he's never felt more secure than he did now.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The hewn city always gave me the shivers, I hated being in this place, hated every inch of the Court of Nightmares, my birthplace, my childhood home. It was cold here, the feel of a cold spider crawling down my spine was at a constant.

Eris stood in front of the entire inner circle like an interrogation. We were discussing the peace treaty Rhys has been working on for quite some time now. Seated at a meeting table made of solid black marble, the chair I sat in was a matching color that ate up any light around it. Azriel stood behind me, his hands resting on the headrest of my seat, refraining from pouncing on the Heir at any given moment.

"If you think for even a moment that my father will sign your little settlement you've either been brainwashed or you truly are the brute I thought you to be." My mate hums towards the high lord and I mentally curse him. Can't you just act civil towards them for a moment? I ask and a smile curves his lips, which is all the response I need. The spymaster lets out a low growl behind me, his hands digging into the material at the back of my chair. I reach behind my head and set my hand atop his scarred one, calming him down. Eris noticed the couch and watched as the spy master's fingers intertwined with mine, the future high lord noticeably grinding his teeth. I flashed him a pretty smile that mirrored his previous one.

"We don't need your father, we need the High Lord of the Autumn Court." Feyre stared and everyone's head whipped to her. "Would you sign it? If given the title?" Feyre asks and Eris tilts his head with a sloppy smile. "Perhaps," He shrugs, I have to physically hold back from rolling my eyes. Always one for the dramatics.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cassian bristles. "Well once I'm in power you can't be sure of where my loyalties lie, and after you rejected my proposal—" He says pointedly at Nesta. "There's no knowing who I might turn to after becoming High Lord." He lets on and my stomach twists anxiously, despite knowing where this was going Eris had such a way with his words that had even me believing he'd betray us if given a better offer.

I'm starting to second-guess this plan. I confess to him, something warm breezes over me, flames spreading across my mind to calm me. There's nothing to worry about my fawn, it'll go as intended. He reassured but the fear on the edge of my mind remained.

"You can't have her." Cassian grits out, crossing his arms over his chest and I'd never seen him look more intimidating, even on a battlefield that fierceness was nothing compared to the pure loathing in his eyes. "I don't want Nesta," Eris scoffs at the Illyrian, lazily looking at him. "Then what do you want?" Nesta leaned onto the table, narrowing her gaze on him.

Eris looked at every set of eyes at the table before lastly meeting mine. His stare doesn't falter for even a moment, so confident when he looks at me like he's got no fear in the world. "Her." He states, voices steady and certain.

"Absolutely not." Azriel rules from behind me, I look to Rhys who seems to have the same opinion as the shadow singer. "Find something else, you can't have her." Rhys orders in a voice that reminds me solely of the most powerful High Lord. "You were so eager to sell Nesta off, when I asked for her hand you gave her the decision." Eris reminds and Rhysand's jaw clamps shut, muscles feathering along it. He releases a breath of annoyance, looking at me. It's up to you. He says into the chambers of my mind I have sectioned for him and him only, not allowing him to see my thoughts of Eris, I won't let him find the mating bond, gods forbid the memories.

I remove my hand from Azriel's and fold my hands in my lap anxiously, Rhys has just put the fate of this court in my hands, but more selfishly, the outcome of my relationship with Eris. I swallow thickly, my eyes flicking up to the Heir to Autumn. I can feel everyone watching me, intently staring as if trying to read my answer before I even reply.

"If Beron dies and you come to power, if you promise to sign the treaty I will marry you," I say meekly as if this wasn't my idea. I can practically feel Azriel seething behind me. He's always had issues with his temper and I wonder if he'll pounce on Eris yet again depending on what the Prince says next. "A bargain then." He smirks and I nod. My eyes flick to Rhys as I stand, Eris does the same. We meet in the middle, his left hand reaching out. The hands that have felt every inch of me, the hands that have cradled me as well as fucked me.

I set my palm into his, the familiar feeling has them slotting together perfectly. I look into his eyes and a searing pain etched itself onto my left hand. I don't look away from his eyes. I wanted to feel the burn, relishing in the feeling of the bargain marking me, making it clear to my family that I am his and he in mine, in one way or another.

The pain ceases and I'm hesitant to pull my hand away, I haven't felt his warmth in a week. He takes his hand away first and I follow the action, looking down at the tattoo that tainted my hand, intricately designed lines and patterns running along the back of my palm, coming up and looping around my ring finger like a wedding band, his to match exactly. I look to my family across the table, all the way on the other side now that I stood by Eris, it felt like some kind of metaphor that I couldn't shake.

"Settled then?"

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"What an absolute bastard." Rhys groans, flopping down onto the couch. I anxiously watch the Inner Circle as they all settle into the sitting room. "I wouldn't have accepted the proposal if he had ill intent," I mumble, coming to his defense as much as I could without raising suspicion. "You shouldn't have," Cassian says, taking a seat in his designated chair. Nesta went back to the House of Wind, Amren and Mor went back to their respective apartments, and Feyre had gone to bed early, leaving me with the three winged males.

"This Court was at stake," I argue. "This Court would've been fine," Rhys states. "We could've found something else, anything else." The high lord sighs. Azriel was utterly silent, which frightened me. "Eris always has an ulterior motive, whatever he wants with you scares the shit out of me," Cassian explains with a soft expression and a frown rugs at my lips. "I understand your point, but you let me have a choice and I made it," I say, still standing, facing all three of them staring at me like overprotective brothers.

"What does he want with you?" Azriel narrowed his eyes on me. I pale, unsure what he meant. "You know something we don't." He stated, his voice certain. "I— I'm not sure what you mean." I crease my brows, the other two Illyrians look at the spymaster confused. He stood, leveling his gaze with mine as he towered over me. "What are you hiding?" His eyes analyze every movement of my body, taking a step back as he steps forward. His eyes were dark as he walked towards me.

"Az," I mumble, utterly passive under the shadow singer's gaze. "Nothing, you would know if I had secrets." I try to play it off with a soft laugh but it's futile. "Would I?" He grits out and I blink rapidly due to what felt like fear, not towards Azriel, never towards him. But what would he do if he found out? "Az, you're scaring me," I mutter, purposefully making my voice shake. It was a low move, but I knew it'd make him stop.

His eyes run along my features then back to my eyes. "I'm sorry," He places his hands on my shoulders. "I just, you're sure there isn't anything I should know?" He creases his dark brows and I swallow down my word vomit. The tenderness in his voice has me wanting to tell him everything. I take a deep breath, looking into his hazel eyes, and realizing the silence has stretched on for far too long I speak. "Nothing." I square my features and his hands slip from my shoulders. "I understand." He hums, backing away and brushing past me towards his bedroom.

I look at the two males still in their seats staring at me with raised brows. "I think I'm going to go to bed as well, it's been a long day," I mumble, eager to get out of there, and get to my apartment. "Of course, get good sleep," Rhys says, I look to Cassian and he gives me a nod. I return it before winnowing back to my apartment.

I release a long sigh, walk into my office, and shuffle through my drawers until I find a piece of note paper and a pen, I quickly scribble onto it.

Are you still here? I write, watching as the paper disappears from thin air, impatiently I wait for a reply, rocking on my heels until the paper appears again, fluttering down onto my desk with familiar handwriting on it.

Miss me already?

I roll my eyes at the words and quickly jot down my reply with the neatest brand I can muster.

Maybe just a little, will you answer my question now? He's quick to reply this time.

I am. Want to come back?

Why don't you come to my apartment?

I watch the note disappear and I anxiously click my pen repeatedly as I wait for him to reply, taking longer than it should've.

Oh? Now look who's trying to get caught?

Eris, will you come or not?

Give me a moment Love, I'll be there.

I smile at the note, allowing it to rest on my desk as I walk into my bedroom, shuffling through my nightgowns. I find my softest one, a pale yellow chiffon that ends at my thighs. I strip from my heavy dress, pushing it down my hips before hopping out of it. I had the gown back up into my large closet, placing it on the rack for later wearing, then moving back to my bedroom where I left the nightgown on my bed.

My brows crease when the yellow fabric is no longer fanned out on the bed. "This is awfully short," A voice hums in the dark room and I jump, my head whipping to a familiar silhouette holding up the pastel dress. "Don't you think?" He flicks his eyes up to me and my ears perk up as a cheeky grin spreads across my face. "Want to put it on me?" I suggest, taking a step towards my mate. "I'd rather be the one taking it off." He intones and I roll my eyes, sauntering over to him until we're nearly chest to chest. "I'll let you do that too." I raise my arms up and he smiles, slipping the dress over my arms, passing my shoulders, bending down, and pulling the pretty dress past my hips. He looks up at me from his knees and I smile down at him, my hand going into his hair.

"My pretty fiancé." I tease and he presses a kiss to my thigh, his bright eyes never leaving mine. "I love this," I say, hand coming down to caress the side of his face. "Love what?" He arches a brow curiously, my fingers coming under his chin and tilting his head higher up. "Love that I have Eris Vanserra down on his knees for me," I mutter, bending at the hips and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I think I love it too." He confesses as my hand leaves his chin and cups around the back of his neck.

He stands up, my head tilting with him, lips never leaning as he places his hand on my waist and walks towards me, guiding me with him until the backs of my thighs hit the plushness of my bed. I smile, detaching our lips before hoisting myself onto the bed, crawling further up until my back is resting on the headboard.

He wastes no time in mounting over me, arms coming to either side of me as his lips slot against mine yet again.

I arch my back as his hands press against my waist, my chest pushing up against his. "It was a mistake to put this dress on," He murmurs into my mouth and I sigh breathlessly. "Whys that?" I mutter. "Because now all I want to do is see it on the floor." He purrs and a smirk curved my lips. "Then what are you waiting for?" I taunt. His fingers make quick work of slipping the thin straps from my shoulders.

He tugs it down my thighs, forcing it past my hips and throwing it off onto my floor, exactly as he promised. I was left in nothing but my undergarments, feeling particularly bare I began to work on the buttons of his shirt, pulling them undone as I worked lower and lower, as soon as I reached his waist where his shirt ends, I began unbuckling his belt.

He does the rest of the shirt for me, not daring to break our kiss, his mouth staking claim on me like a ravaging beast needing to feed, and I was the only sustenance around. I get his belt off, the rattling of it familiar as it clatters to the floor.

My arms trail up his arms that framed either side of my head, feeling up the Heirs biceps, nails clawing down his back as his hips drag along mine.

"Eris," I pant out. "I know." He nods, understanding exactly what I was feeling in my chest, the bond between us growing every time he touches me, that tether, impossible to ignore, glimmering between us as his left hand roams every inch of my bare skin.

I breathe a sigh of satisfaction once his palm finds purchase at my breast, groping the sensitive flesh.

I moan into our kiss at the feeling, our kiss that was all tongue and teeth, hurried passion with a hunger I knew well. His hand leaves my breast much to my dismay, instead, he shucks off his pants. I smile excitedly as two of his fingers dip down past my pantie line, pinching the lacy undergarment between his fingers. "This is okay?" He whispers breathlessly against my lips and I nod with a needy fervor. "More than okay," I murmur and he wastes no time, lips crashing back down onto mine and he's pulling off my panties, discarding them along with the rest of my clothes on the floor.

"Touch me," I beg as soon as the cold air hits my wet core, clenching around nothing at the sensation. "Eris, please," I whine and he presses a kiss to my forehead, hand raking down my body. "Tell me how." He hummed and my brows creased in perpetual need. "Your fingers, inside," I murmur out with creased brows and a corrupting smile curves the Heirs lips, his thumb finding my clit.

A gasp racks through me at the intense feeling, two of his long fingers dragging through my soaked folds. "You're soaked." He observed and I nodded, showing him just how much I'd needed him all day today, knowing he was in my court, in my grasp, but I couldn't have him, not until now.

"Fuck, feels good." I sigh contentedly as his thumb begins circling tightly around my puffy clit, sensitive to his stimulation. "Yeah?" He hovers over me and I nod with my eyes clenched shut, reveling in the way he lathered his fingers in my slick.

His fingers enter me, two at once. My breath hitched and my heart rate doubled at the intense heat that overwhelms my body. He doesn't wait for me to adjust, and begins pumping his fingers in and out of me at a rapid pace, hitting deeper every time— he finds that spongy bundle of nerves deep inside of me and I scream his name, hands feeding into his hair as I grip his hair between my fingers, whining as I beg for him to abuse that spot.

He does as told, palm resting against my clit and pushing down onto it, allowing me further friction as I begin grinding down onto his hand, fingers scissoring inside of me, doing wicked things that have me pulling his hair and moaning ridiculously loud.

"I'm close," I mumble out, tears welling in my eyes at the immense pleasure. "Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers pretty girl?" He asks and I nod, opening my eyes to look up at him. He looked like an angel from this perspective, his hair hanging over his eyes as I ran my hands through it, pushing it back so I could see his lust-blown eyes.

"Eris— I'm cumming!" I confess and he smirks above me, thumb flicking over my clit, causing my legs to jolt as I reach ecstasy, finding that high and grasping onto it for dear life, riding it out as my grinds come to a stop and his fingers, slowly, slip from my entrance. I looked at him with a fucked-out expression, watching as he took his fingers into his mouth, licking every drop of my release off of his own hand.

I clench my legs shut, whimpering as my orgasm lingers on the edge of my mind, another one would quickly be approaching if I got any form of fraction between my thighs.

"Wanna, make you feel good too." I blink up at him helplessly and he sloppily grins down at me. "Want your cock." I mumble, already knowing what he wants of me. His eyes practically glow golden at my behavior, his member straining against the last remaining fabric between us and he removes it, his sex springing up against his abdomen, precum seeping from his tip. My mouth waters at the sight of it, hand coming to it and swiping the pearl of white away, bringing it up to my lips and licking it away.

He presses his core into mine, his heavy cock dragging through my folds, lubing himself for my pleasure. I hum in want, in pure need, for more. He strokes himself once, then twice. His tip red and angry as he aligns it with my slit and I bite my bottom lip, forcing myself to stare as he pushes in, inching himself deeper and deeper.

"So, big," I mutter incoherently, too cock-drunk to recognize anything else. The stretch was far from foreign but gods did it feel good, my walls hugging his thick shaft, pushing inside of me further and further. My breath quickens as he presses against that bundle of nerves— then goes further.

Tears spring to my eyes at the pleasurable pain, nails digging into his shoulder as his hips finally hit mine and I release a gasp of relief.

He looks at me reassuringly, my eyes catching contact with his. "Hard, go hard," I beg. "Want you feral," I mumble. "You're so good for me." He mutters, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as he pulls all the way out to his tip, and without warning— slams back in, moans ripping from my throat at the sudden change of pace, his thrusts becoming animalistic as he hits home, every single time.

"Fuck," any brows crease together, nails now making red marks down his back that rippled with muscle. He drives into me with sheer fervor, not letting up for even a moment as I contract around him with a sharp breath, feeling every ridge and dip of his member as he uses me like a sleeve, molding to him and him only.

"You're so fucking tight," He grunts out, hips rolling over mine. Tears roll down my face but he doesn't care, he continues fucking me with an unmatched speed. "Eris, too much," I whine out, gripping his back, attempting to find purchase anywhere I can manage. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah?" He hums, lips finding mine again, shutting my complaints up and hammering into me.

"I'm gonna— I'm so close," I mumble into his mouth and he nods. "Me too baby," He reassures over the sounds of his tight balls slapping against my ass, hips clapping against mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, finding every crevice it can manage and I just allow it. Let him take over my entire body, reaching a headspace that made me entirely passive, just wanting his hands on me, anywhere, everywhere.

"You going to cum on my cock my girl?" He asks and I nod earnestly, tear-stained cheeks flushed pink from the exertion. "Please, can I?" I wasn't above begging, I was ready to get down onto my knees if it meant I could have that sweet release, so close I could almost taste it— feeling that knot tighten in my core. "You can," He allows, and with another thrust of his hips, grinding them down onto mine and rolling over that perfect spot inside of me I'm reaching that

Warmth blossoms in my abdomen as I feel my orgasm crash over me like a wave of pure pleasure. I clench tightly around him, walls fluttering around his cock and then his warm seed fills me, letting out a groan of my name as his release pumps into me. He lets out a shaky sigh as he works himself down from the intense high, slowly removing his heavy shaft from my entrance and flipping down beside me.

Pants for air fill the room, the cold bedsheets feeling like heaven on my hot skin, still, I burrow into Eris. Flipping onto my side and resting my head against his chest. His hand comes into my hair, dragging his fingers through it as we regain our breath, my hand on his abdomen, tracing random shapes on the muscle.

"Do you want to stay the night?" I ask after a stretch of comfortable silence. "You have to be gone by dawn but, a few hours of sleep couldn't hurt." I excuse and his hand in my hair halts. "You have no idea how enticing that sounds." He sighs. "Then stay." I look up at him, blinking slowly as exhaustion took me full throttle. "Okay." He nods. "Okay." I smile, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet— contradicting the events that just took place. "Let's get you cleaned up first."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I woke up to the birds outside my window cooing their morning song, I released a soft sigh and noticed a heavy weight around my middle. I peek my eyes open, looking down at the familiar arm that belonged to my mate. I mumble a chain of incoherent sounds, my hand sliding from my forearm up to his large bicep, the feel of his muscles having my body set to flame. I flip around and look up at the pretty male, his red hair cascading over his eyes messily. I drag my fingers through it, pushing the strands away so I can look at his features.

The sunlight seeped past my sheer curtains, shining softly down into his sharp features. He seemed so at peace with his head on my pillows, his arm around me. I move my hand from his hair down to cup his cheek. In the sunlight, I can see each one of his freckles so clearly I swore I could lie here and count them all day.

I wonder why I don't admire him more in the mornings, he truly was meant to be admired during sunrise.

I quickly realized I never saw him during the mornings because I was too busy collecting my things and rushing out of his apartment to get back to my house before anyone noticed.

"Eris." I spring up, shaking his shoulders. "Eris, wake up." I urge. He peeks one eye open with a grimace. "Everything's okay," His hands come up to the sides of my face, his immediate response to comfort me even half-asleep. "No, Eris you have to go," I say clearly and he mumbles something I don't understand. "What's wrong?" He asks, rubbing his eyes, clearly confused. "You fell asleep, you need to go back to Autumn." I reason with him and he groans, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back down onto the bed. "Does anybody come to your apartment in the mornings?" He asks. "No," I say muffled with my cheek smushed into his chest. "And do you need to leave anytime soon?" He adds and I shake my head. "Not until late afternoon," I explain and he pulls me so much closer. "So what's the rush, Fawn?" He prompts and my ears perk up, realizing there was no real reason for him to leave so early. "I suppose there isn't one," I mumble, allowing myself to return to admiring his features, his auburn eyes not halfway open to stare at me back.

"Good morning." He says and I smile wildly, not realizing how badly I wished for him to still be around the morning after. "Morning my love." I press a kiss to the corner of his lips, he smiles at the feeling. "My betrothed is so pretty in the mornings." He hums his morning voice something I've rarely heard, the deep sound of it having my ears perk up. "Your betrothed?" I arch my brow and he nods tiredly, intertwining our left hands that were designed in tattoos.

"Mhm, now go back to sleep beloved." He pulls the blanket over our heads and I giggle, now enveloped in the dark with him. "I love you," I whisper like we're about to tell scary stories. "Love you too." He leans in blindly and somehow finds my lips, as if he knew where they were, and presses a gentle kiss to my lips, letting the blanket go in order to bring his hand into my hair.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogersbarnesxx @sandramalikstyles-blog @stinkinstuffie @azriels-shadowsinger

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

[sadnymi]

Loml p2

[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

P.s:this takes place before the start of part one and during it , this one is from mattheo POV, can read It as a stand alone [you can read part one here | p1 | .] [part3]

Warnings:Angst,family drama, past trauma, abusing father, violent,smut,strong language.

Words:12k.

They say you inherit your father's eyes, his nose, the shape of his jaw. But what they don't say is you inherit the weight of his choices. The weight of a name that chills hearts and shatters families. 

My father speaks of a world cleansed, of magic pure and untainted. He speaks of a glorious future built on the ashes of the old. But what future is built on sacrifice? On the screams of innocents echoing in the dead of night?

Another victory. Another display of power etched onto my already formidable reputation. The whispers followed me everywhere – "He's his father's son," they hissed, "Mark my words, he'll be the end of us all." It was a constant thrum in my ear, a prophecy carved in stone.

The roar of the crowd fueled the fire in my fists. Another boy, twice my size, crumpled under the onslaught, his face contorted in pain. Rage, a familiar companion, coursed through me, a dark echo of something I didn't understand. Power,they called it. Legacy. My father's legacy.

Just as I raised my hand for another blow, a flicker of movement caught my eye. A girl, with (y/e/c), stood at the edge of the crowd, her gaze fixed on me. 

For a fleeting moment, the world around me shrunk, the cheers and jeers dissolving into a deafening silence. In her eyes, there wasn't fear, nor the twisted pleasure the others seemed to relish. There was... something else. A flicker of concern, a hint of understanding.

Before I could analyze it further, a primal instinct took over. I ripped my hand away from the fallen boy, the sudden movement sending a jolt of surprise through him. The crowd erupted in confused murmurs. Without a word, I stalked towards the girl, a cold terror blooming in my gut.

"Don't you dare say a word of this," I hissed, the words coming out harsher than I intended. Her eyes widened, but she didn't flinch.

"I won't," she whispered. "I understand."

To my surprise, she didn't retreat. Instead, she turned and rushed back to the boy I'd hurt, kneeling beside him. The sight of her concern for the boy, the madness in her eyes, made something inside me twist in a way it never had before.

Later that night, as the castle settled into a hushed silence, I found myself drawn to the empty courtyard. Restless, I paced beneath the star-dusted sky.

Then, I saw her. She materialized from the shadows, her robes swirling around her like a whispered secret. My breath hitched in my throat.

"Hi," she said, offering a small smile. "My name's Y/n. What's yours?"

Silence. I stared at her.

"You know my name,"

Her smile faltered for a second, then returned. "Yeah, but it's nicer to hear it from you. Anyway, I love Grindylows! Did you see one in the lake yet?"

I didn't answer. Grindylows? What did she care about a water demon?

"Maybe not," she continued, seemingly unfazed by my silence. Then, before I could stop her, she reached out and gingerly took my hand in hers. It was warm, a stark contrast to the chilling loneliness I was accustomed to.

"The other kids," she started, her voice barely a whisper. "They say things about you. That you're…different. That you'll turn out like…him." Her eyes met mine. "Don't listen to them. It's not true, I know it's not."

I pulled back, the warmth of her touch lingering on my skin like a phantom limb. It was a feeling both exhilarating and terrifying, a strange current running through me.

Her gaze held mine, unwavering. "Can we be friends?" she asked, her voice soft as a summer breeze. "Just you and me?"

I looked into her eyes, searching for the fear, the hatred, anything familiar. But all I found was a gentle hope, a yearning for connection.

And in that moment, amidst the familiar darkness, a spark ignited within me. A feeling I couldn't name, but one I craved nonetheless. It was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a beacon in the storm.

All I could do was nod, a small. A radiant smile lit up her face, as bright as the stars above. "Friends it is," she said, her voice filled with a joy that resonated deep within me.

Days passed and I started to feel like I did a big mistake.

Following me again, I see. Honestly, it's becoming quite the morning routine.

"Mattheo! Wait up!" she called as I tried to make my escape from the crowded hallway. She bounced after me, her energy almost overwhelming.

" Leave me alone," I muttered for the tenth time, turning to face her. Her wide eyes sparkled with mischief.

"But Mattheo, we're friends," she said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "And friends stick together, right?"

"Not this much," I replied, but she just laughed, a sound that was both infectious and irritating.

We spent the rest of the day together, or rather, I tried to lose her, but she always managed to pop up again. It was like she had some sixth sense for where I'd be next. By the time the sun began to set, I was finally free—or so I thought.

I walked out of the castle, seeking some peace, heading towards my usual spot by the tree near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

As I sat down, a small twig fell onto my shoulder. I glanced up, ready to brush it off, only to find a tuft of hair hanging from the branches.

No way. I got up and looked up, squinting into the branches. Sure enough, there she was, sprawled out on a thick limb like she owned the place.

"What the— Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?" I couldn't believe my eyes.

She looked down at me, completely unbothered. "I'm reading, Matty. Do you want to come up here?" She held up a book, swinging her legs lazily.

I just shook my head in disbelief, not even bothering to respond. As I walked away, I could still hear her giggling from up in the tree.

Days like this were far too common. I had tried everything to shake her off, but she was like a particularly stubborn pixie, always popping up where I least expected—or wanted—her to be.

But then come that day when a Gryffindor boy, whose name I didn’t bother to learn, decided to mouth off about my father.

"Hey, Riddle Jr., how does it feel being the spawn of a maniac?" he jeered, loud enough for everyone in the common room to hear.

I clenched my fists, ready to shut him up myself, but before I could even move, Y/N had stepped in. She sauntered over to him, all smiles and innocence.

"Hi there," she chirped. "You must be new. I'm Y/N."

The boy sneered, "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just thought I'd introduce myself properly." She extended her hand, and as he reached out to take it, she moved faster than I thought possible. With a swift flick of her wrist, she jabbed him in the ribs, precisely where no one could see. The boy yelped, clutching his side, his face contorted in pain.

"Oops, sorry," Y/N said sweetly, not an ounce of sincerity in her voice. "You really should be more careful."

The boy's scream drew everyone's attention, and he glared at her, but he couldn't prove anything. I couldn't help but smile as I watched him limp away, defeated.

Y/N sauntered back to me, a satisfied grin on her face. "

I shook my head, unable to suppress my smile. She was crazy, no doubt about it, but she was my kind of crazy.

Years passed at Hogwarts, and Y/N was always there by my side. What once seemed like an annoying habit of following me everywhere turned into a constant presence I couldn't imagine being without. She wasn't just the crazy girl who trailed after me anymore; she became the girl I couldn't spend a day without.

Every Quidditch match, I could count on looking up and seeing her in the stands, and I know she was here for me just for me, and I found myself playing harder, if only to see that proud smile on her face.

In between classes, she would run up to me, breathless and excited, ready to spill the latest gossip she’d overheard. "Matty, you won’t believe what I just heard!" she’d say, eyes wide with intrigue. Gossiping was her guilty pleasure, and as much as I pretended to be annoyed, I secretly loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked.

One day, she caught me in the courtyard, practically bouncing on her toes. "Matty, did you hear? Serena and Thomas broke up! And she was seen with—"

"Slow down, Y/N," I laughed, ruffling her hair. "You’re going to explode if you keep all this excitement bottled up."

She giggled, playfully swatting my hand away.

As time went on, I found myself becoming more protective of her. The thought of anyone making her cry made my blood boil. I couldn’t stand seeing tears in her eyes, I watched over her like a hawk. If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, they’d have me to answer to. It wasn’t just about protecting her, though. I realized that I needed her. Her laughter, her stories, her unwavering belief in me—she was my anchor.

I maintained my aloof façade, the mask I knew all too well. Emotions, for me, were a foreign language, their expressions clumsy and awkward. Yet, Y/n never faltered. She saw through the cracks in my carefully constructed walls, peering into the darkness with an unsettling understanding.

As we grew up, that fire only intensified. I noticed the way boys looked at her, their gazes lingering too long, their smiles a bit too eager. It drove me mad. She had always been beautiful, but as she matured, she became even more stunning, if that was possible. It wasn’t just her appearance—it was her confidence, her grace. She drew attention effortlessly

leaving Potions class, I overheard a group of boys whispering.

"Did you see Y/N today?" one of them snickered. "Merlin, I'd give anything to get her alone. Imagine what we could do... cause look at her. Bet she'd be wild in bed"

Rage flared in my chest. I walked over, my expression deceptively calm. "Care to repeat that?" I asked, smiling in a way that I knew was anything but friendly.

The boy looked up, a smirk still on his face. "I was just saying, Y/N’s looking quite... inviting today."

"Mate, I think it's time for you to apologize," Enzo said, his tone mockingly friendly.

“For what? for saying that y/n is__,”

I didn't give him a chance to continue. With a swift, hard punch, I hit him square in the jaw. He stumbled back, clutching his face, but I grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, hitting him again and again. Blood spattered, and I could feel my knuckles splitting, but I didn't care.

Theo and Enzo stood beside me, positioned themselves to ensure no one could interrupt, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd that had begun to gather.

"Say it again," I say, my smile widening as the boy's eyes filled with fear. "Say something else about her."

The boy whimpered, blood dripping from his nose. "I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it."trying to get I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. "If you ever say anything like that again, I'll do more than just hit."

Before I could continue, a voice cut through the tension. "What is going on here?" Professor Snape's tone was icy as he strode towards us, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

"Nothing, Professor," Theo said smoothly. "Just a little misunderstanding."

Snape's gaze shifted to me, then to the boy, who was still crumpled on the floor. "Detention, Mr. Riddle," Snape said, his voice low and dangerous. "And you two," he pointed at Theo and Enzo, "for aiding in this... commotion."

"Yes, Professor," I said, not taking my eyes off the boy as I released him.

As Snape began dispersing the crowd, Y/N ran up to me, her face full of concern. "Mattheo, your knuckles are bleeding! Why did you hit him like that? what happened"

I looked at her, my anger melting away at the sight of her worry. Gently, I put my hand on her face, pulling her close and kissing her forehead.

She sighed, her eyes searching mine. "You can't just go around hitting people, Mattheo you know?"

"Watch me." I murmured, still smiling. holding her gaze. "Tell me, what were you reading earlier? That book you were so interested in?"

She blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "Um, it was about ancient runes. I'm trying to understand the inscriptions we found in the Forbidden Forest."

"Sounds fascinating," I said. "Let's go talk about it."

She looked at me, her worry not completely gone but softened by my genuine interest. "Alright," she said quietly, and we walked away

The Yule Ball was approaching, and the entire school buzzed with excitement. Dresses and suits were being fitted, and every conversation seemed to revolve around who was asking whom. But amidst the excitement, Y/N and I had our first big fight.

"Why does it matter so much, Mattheo?" she yelled, her voice trembling with frustration.

"Because I don't like the way Cormac has been looking at you," I shot back, pacing the common room. "He's a creep, and you know it."

"He's my friend," she retorted, crossing her arms. "And you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Really? You think it's ridiculous that I don't want some perv ogling you?"

"It's not just about him, is it? You're jealous. Admit it."

"That's not —," I snapped, though a part of me knew she was right. "I just—"

"You just what?" she interrupted, her eyes flashing with anger.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. She shook her head.

"Forget it, Mattheo. I can't deal with this right now," she said, turning on her heel and storming out of the room.

The next morning, the entire school was buzzing with talk of the Grindylow attack on Cormac McLaggen. Apparently, the self-important jerk had been ambushed near the lake, and now everyone was either horrified or laughing about it. As I walked out of the castle, a smirk crept onto my face, knowing exactly who could orchestrate something like that. I headed toward the lake, confident I would find her there.

Sure enough, there she was, her form reflected in the water as she practiced with a sword. Her movements were fluid, precise. She didn’t notice me at first, too caught up in her training. But then, she caught sight of me and rolled her eyes before turning back to her practice, ignoring my presence.

"Did you hear about Cormac?" I called out, trying to get her attention. 

She didn't respond, just continued swinging the sword with focused intensity.

I walked closer, unable to help myself. "They say a Grindylow got him. Attacked him out of nowhere."

Still, she acted like I wasn't there. I stepped forward and grabbed the sword by its blade, halting her mid-swing. Her eyes widened in shock and concern as she saw me gripping the sharp metal.

"Are you crazy, Mattheo?" she exclaimed, yanking the sword back. 

"Only one person could manage to get a Grindylow to attack someone," I said, smirking. 

She didn't deny it. Instead, she shot back, "I'm sending them after you next time."

"Yeah, yeah," I said dismissively, a grin tugging at my lips. "What did he do, anyway?"

Her expression darkened. "That cunt of an idiot thought he could just kiss me," she spat, her anger palpable.

Jealousy flared up inside me, but I pushed it down. "And he found out how wrong he was, huh?"

She shot me a look. "You're an idiot, Mattheo."

"Me? Why?" I say, as she spoke, I couldn’t take my eyes off her—her eyes, her lips. Damn those lips. They haunted my dreams, and seeing them tremble made something inside me snap.

“Maybe I should have just kissed him. It's just a kiss anyway, not that big of a deal."

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just a kiss, huh?"

She continued, almost to herself, "I was saving my first kiss for—" She stopped and looked away. "I can't keep waiting forever. I'll die without experiencing it."

I looked at her, really looked at her. and she turned to leave. I grabbed her arm and gently held her face, forcing her to look at me. "Would you send a Grindylow after me if I kissed you?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide with a mixture of defiance and curiosity.

Without waiting another second, I closed the gap between us, pressing my lips against hers. The kiss was better than everything I dreamed about, intense, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. Her lips were soft, and I felt her melt into me, her hands gripping my shirt as if to keep herself grounded.

I deepened the kiss, my hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. I could feel the heat radiating from her, matching the fire inside me. Her lips parted slightly, and I took the opportunity to explore further, tasting her, savoring every moment.

When we finally pulled apart, her eyes were wide with surprise and something else—something that mirrored what I felt inside.

"Still planning to send a Grindylow after me?" I whispered, a teasing smile on my lips.

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Not if you keep kissing me like that."

Good things are supposed to happen to good people. And I always wondered how someone like me could ever deserve her. From the first day I saw her, I knew I would give everything to this girl. Over time, it became clear that my heart wasn’t mine anymore. It belonged to her.

Every time I see her, it’s like a magnet pulling me in, an irresistible force that I can't fight even if I wanted to. After the kiss, I can't seem to keep my hands off her. It's like a switch has been flipped inside me, and now, I'm constantly drawn to her, craving the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin.

Every stolen moment between classes, every hidden corner of the castle, becomes an opportunity to indulge in this newfound obsession.

Today is no different. I spot her in the library, bent over a thick book, her hair cascading over her shoulder. She doesn’t see me yet.

I approach quietly, my steps silent on the worn stone floor. When I’m close enough, I let my fingers brush over her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly and look up at me with those eyes that always seem to see right through me.

“Mattheo,” she breathes, a smile tugging at her lips.

I smirk, leaning down to capture her mouth with mine, my hand tangling in her hair. My other hand snakes around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the curve of her body against mine. She responds immediately, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling me down to deepen the kiss.

“Not here,” she murmurs against my lips, but there’s no conviction in her voice. Her body is saying otherwise, pressing against me with a need that matches my own.

“Here,” I insist, nipping at her bottom lip.

Before she can protest further, I’ve got her backed into a secluded corner of the library, hidden from prying eyes. My mouth moves from her lips to her neck, sucking gently, eliciting a soft moan from her. It’s music to my ears, fueling the fire inside me.

“Mattheo,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “We’ll get caught.”

“Let them catch us,” I growl, my hands roaming over her body, feeling every curve, every dip. “Will kill whoever interupt.”

I capture her lips again, more fiercely this time, my tongue exploring her mouth. She matches my intensity, her hands now under my shirt, fingers grazing my skin. I slide my hand down to the hem of her skirt, slipping underneath to feel the soft skin of her thigh. She shivers at my touch, her breath hitching.

“Please,” she whispers.

I don’t need to be told twice. I drop to my knees, pushing her skirt up, exposing her. She’s already wet, her arousal evident. I look up at her, meeting her eyes.

There’s a moment of pure, raw connection before I lean in, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. Her legs tremble, and she grips the shelf behind her for support.

I tease her with my tongue, flicking over her clit lightly before taking it into my mouth, sucking gently.

Her moan is louder this time, her hips bucking towards me. I hold her steady, my hands on her hips, guiding her movements. I delve deeper, tasting her fully, my tongue exploring every inch of her. Her hands find their way into my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on.

“Mattheo,” she moans, her voice breathy and desperate. “Don’t stop.”

I have no intention of stopping. I increase my pace, my tongue working her clit faster, harder. Her moans become more frequent, her body trembling with the intensity of her impending orgasm. I can feel it building, her muscles tightening, her breath coming in short gasps.

She cries out, her body convulsing with pleasure, her nails digging into my scalp. I continue my ministrations, riding out her orgasm until she’s quivering and breathless.

I stand, pulling her into my arms, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on my lips. Her arms wrap around my neck, her body melting into mine.

“I love you,” she whispers against my lips.

As the seventh year at Hogwarts drew to a close, whispers filled the air like a thick fog: Voldemort was back. I could feel it, a gnawing certainty deep in my bones. But I couldn't face it—not yet. So I ignored it, pushing down the creeping dread as much as I could.

We were leaving the castle soon, and Y/N had confided in me that she didn't want to go back to her parents' house. The thought of her being anywhere near danger tore at me, but I knew what I had to say.

"It's safer there," I told her, my voice firm yet gentle as we stood in a secluded corridor. I cupped her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. "You have to stay with them, at least for now."

"But I want to be with you," she insisted, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

I kissed her then, softly at first, then with all the desperation I felt. "I promise you, I'm still with you. Always," I whispered against her lips. "But you need to stay there."

Reluctantly, she nodded, and I handed her a small, enchanted locket. "This is for you," I said, fastening it around her neck. "If you need me, just press it, and I'll know. I'll come to you, no matter what."

Two weeks later, Enzo and I were lounging in my room, talking about everything and nothing, when suddenly the locket lit up. Enzo's eyes widened as he pointed. "Mate, is that Y/N?"

I was off the bed in an instant, my heart pounding. "Y/N?" I said into the locket, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Are you okay?"

"Mattheo, can you come get me?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling and broken. She sounded like she was crying.

"I'm coming. Just hold on," I said, grabbing my jacket and racing out of the room. Enzo's voice was a distant echo as I sprinted down the stairs, keys already in hand.

"Where are you?" I asked into the locket, sliding into my car. Her words were shaky, filled with fear and confusion, as she tried to explain her location.

"I... I don't know exactly. Near the park, I think," she stammered.

"I'm on my way," I reassured her, my knuckles white as I gripped the steering wheel. The streets blurred past me as I drove, my mind solely focused on finding her.

When I finally saw her, my heart nearly stopped. She was sitting on a bench, wearing her pajamas, looking so small and fragile. I jumped out of the car and rushed to her.

"Y/N!" I called. She looked up, her face pale, and I saw the blood on her mouth and nose. Without thinking, she ran to me, and I caught her in my arms, holding her as tightly as I could.

"Mattheo," she sobbed against my chest, and the sight of her hurt made a dark, vengeful fire ignite within me. I would burn the whole world to the ground for this.

Seeing the blood, something inside me snapped. Rage boiled up, threatening to consume me. Whoever did this to her would pay dearly.

"Who did this to you?" I demanded.

She just clung to me tighter, unable to speak through her tears. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to calm the raging storm inside me.

Whoever did this was going to pay. They would beg for mercy, and I wouldn't give it, not after what they did to her.

"Shh, it's okay," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I'm here now. You're safe. I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

No one would ever touch her again, not as long as I lived.

I slipped my jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, then scooped her up in my arms, holding her close. She buried her face in my chest, still shaking, and I carried her to the car.

I glanced at Y/N. She was one of the strongest people I knew, and seeing her like this drove me mad with anger. "Let me see," I said. She flinched when I reached out to check the bleeding on her face.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she whispered, but her voice trembled.

I clenched the steering wheel, fighting to control my fury. "Thank you for coming," she began, her voice small and broken.

"Of course I came," I cut her off, my voice rough with emotion. "I will always come for you."

"Tell me who did this? Who did this to you, Y/N?" I said, my voice softer but still edged with anger.

She breathed deeply and looked out the window, her body tense. "You know why I was sure you wouldn’t be like your father, Mattheo?" she said softly. "You shouldn’t be punished for his crimes."

Her voice grew weaker, and it shattered my heart. She turned to look at me, her beautiful eyes filled with tears that I hated seeing there.

"Because I know I'm not like mine," she continued, tears spilling over her cheeks., and for the first time, she let herself cry freely.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. "He did that?"

She looked down, her fingers trembling as she clutched the jacket around her. "He's been... he's been hurting me for years, Mattheo. Tonight, he... he tried to do it again. But this time, I fought back."

My heart ached at her words, rage boiling within me.

She lifted her head, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "I set the house on fire. I watched it burn. I wanted to hurt him as he hurt me."

Tears spilled down her cheeks again, and I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly.

She sobbed against my chest, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. "I don't regret it, Mattheo. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel the pain he caused me."

I held her tighter. "I understand, love. I understand."

We stayed like that for a long time. No one would ever touch her again. Not as long as I lived.

After a moment, I started the car and drove her home. When we arrived, Enzo was sitting in the living room. As soon as he saw her, he stood up quickly, concern etched on his face. I shook my head, a silent command for him not to ask or say anything. He nodded and sat back down, understanding the gravity of the situation.

I led her to my room, gently closing the door behind us. "Let's get you cleaned up," I said softly. I rummaged through my drawer, pulling out a clean shirt for her.

Carefully, I helped her out of her torn clothes, my hands shaking as I saw the extent of her injuries. Blood had dried on her skin, mingling with bruises that were already forming.

"I need to shower," she whispered.

"I'll help you," I replied, guiding her to the bathroom. I turned on the water, making sure it was warm before helping her step in. She winced as the water hit her, and I gently washed the blood from her skin. My heart ached with each wince, each sign of her pain.

Once she was clean, I wrapped her in a towel and led her back to the bedroom. I helped her into my shirt. "Sit down," I said, fetching a first-aid kit. I cleaned the cuts on her face and arms, working carefully to avoid causing her more pain.

"How did you learn to do that?" she asked, her voice weak but curious as I braided her hair with careful precision.

"I watched and learned for you," I replied softly, finishing the braid and tying it off. 

I helped her into bed and lay down beside her, wrapping my arms around her protectively. She clung to my shirt, her fingers gripping tightly as if afraid I would vanish. "I’m here," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I’m not going anywhere."

Her breathing gradually slowed, and she drifted off to sleep, her fingers still clutching my shirt. I held her close. 

As she slept, I vowed silently to be her shield, to fight for her and with her, no matter the cost.

Y/N made me promise not to do anything to her father. Her trust in me is a fragile thread, and I can’t bring myself to break it, no matter how much I despise the man.

Lately, my nightmares have become worse. They’re no longer just shadows and screams. Now, I see my father, his voice echoing through the darkness, calling my name. Every night, it gets louder, more insistent, and I wake up drenched in sweat, his voice still ringing in my ears.

There are signs, subtle but unmistakable, that darkness is creeping back into my life. I don’t want to believe it’s my father, but deep down, I can feel his presence. It’s a sensation I can’t deny any longer, no matter how much I wish it away.

When I got home, I found Y/N sitting with Enzo. I stormed past them, heading straight to my room. Y/N followed quickly.

“Mattheo, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice a mix of concern and frustration.

“Nothing,” I snapped, not turning around.

“Are you mad because I’m staying here?” she pressed, trying to meet my gaze.

“Mad? No, it’s not that,” I said harshly. “It’s everything else. Everything piling up. I can’t take it anymore.”

She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. “You’re scaring me, Mattheo.”

Hearing her say that broke something inside me. I never wanted to make her feel this way. I turned to her, cupping her face gently. “Love, I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I’m drowning in this darkness.”

She looked at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ve noticed you don’t sleep well. You’ve been having nightmares, haven’t you?”

I pulled her into a tight hug, not wanting to burden her with the horrors of my mind. “Yes, but I don’t want to worry you with them. It’s my battle to fight.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on as if I might slip away. “You don’t have to do this alone, Mattheo.”

The wizarding world saw me in two extremes: a legacy of power or a monster. I’ve always struggled with which one I truly am.

Y/N leaned in and kissed me softly, grounding me in the moment. We moved to the bed, and she settled on my lap, her presence a soothing balm to my tortured soul.

“Let’s leave all of this behind,” she whispered, her lips brushing my ear.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Run away with me. Just you and me, somewhere far away where no one knows us.”

The idea was tempting, but I shook my head. “We can’t. It’s not that simple.”

She looked at me with determination. “Yes, it is. We can make a new life together, away from all this darkness.”

Her conviction started to break down my resistance. “You really think we can do that?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with hope. “I know we can. We just have to take the first step.”

We left everything behind, the shadows of my past fading.The countryside stretched before us, green fields rolling out in every direction. The house stood there, quaint and peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos we’d left behind.

Y/N was beaming, her joy radiating as she looked around. "Can you believe it?" she said, her voice full of excitement. "We’re really here."

I forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. "So, we’re living in the countryside now?" I teased, but the words felt hollow. I wasn’t sure this was a great idea. The nightmares and the darkness seemed far away, but they still lingered in my mind.

She noticed my hesitation and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the house. "Come on, let me show you inside. You’re going to love it," she said, her eyes sparkling with pride.

As we walked through the house, she pointed out all the little details she adored. But I wasn’t really looking at the house; I was looking at her. She was so happy, so alive, and it was a beautiful sight.

She caught me staring and paused. "What?" she asked, a smile playing on her lips.

I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I’m thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you in this house," I said, and she laughed shooking her head.

I pulled her to me, kissing her deeply, my hands roaming her body.

started to unbutton her shirt, my hands moving with a sense of urgency. "I’m going to take you right here, against the wall," I murmured, my voice thick with need. "And then on the kitchen table, and in our bed. You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow, love."

She swatted at me playfully. "Mattheo, don’t ruin anything in the house."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, my tone dripping with mischief. I lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist.

She loved our new house, always pointing out little things she adored about it. One evening, she insisted on making dinner, spaghetti specifically. The kitchen became a warzone of diced vegetables and spilled sauce. Laughing, I pulled her close, lifting her onto the counter.

"Let me handle it, love," I said, kissing her lightly. "You look adorable up there."

She pouted but relented, watching me as I took over the cooking.

She introduced me to muggle movies and insisted I listen to her favorite music. Though it was different from what I was used to, I found myself enjoying it all because it made her happy.

Today, we were lying in a big field, her head resting on my legs. She looked up at the sky and said, "I love the color green."

"Why’s that?" I asked, running my fingers through her hair.

"It reminds me of nature, of life and growth," she said softly. "And because it reminds me of you."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. She turned her head to look at me, a fleeting fear crossing her features. "This feels like a dream," she whispered.

I stroked her cheek. "It’s real, love. I’m here with you."

She sighed, sitting up and looking into my eyes. "I'm afraid, Mattheo. I don't ever want you to leave."

I cupped her face in my hands, my voice firm. "I won’t leave you. I promise."

She smiled and held my face in her hands, her eyes shining with determination. "I promise I will never leave you either. Until my last breath, I will love you, and I will always choose you."

The thought of her last breath made anger flare inside me. "That won't happen," I said stubbornly.

She laughed softly. "It will happen one day, Mattheo."

"No, it won’t," I insisted.

She shook her head gently, her eyes full of understanding. "We can't stop death, Mattheo. And it’s not always a bad thing. I would die happily knowing I have been loved by you in this life, and I will search for you in every life after."

She hugged me then, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.

As the days passed, the feeling grew stronger. I could hear his whispers in the wind, feel his presence lurking in the shadows.

My father was out there, and I could no longer deny it. The darkness he brought with him tainted the very air I breathed.

Y/N came running to me, her arms wrapping around me from behind. "Mattheo, you won't believe what I heard today," she started, her voice full of excitement. "Mrs. Johnson from next door said that Mr. Thompson’s cat was found in the bakery! Can you imagine a cat in the bakery?"

I put my hands over hers, trying to focus on her words, but the whispers were getting worse, growing louder. I could barely hear her over the din in my mind. I kissed her hand softly. "Love, I have to go out for a bit. I won’t be long."

She turned me around, concern etched on her face. "Now? It’s too late, Mattheo. What’s so important?"

"It’s something I need to take care of," I said firmly. "You should sleep. Don’t wait up for me."

Before she could respond, I pulled away, leaving her standing there with a confused and worried expression.

I hated doing this to her, making her feel sad and abandoned. But I couldn't ignore the feeling any longer. I knew it too well, and I couldn't risk whatever was coming happening with her here.

I grew up in a house filled with shadows and whispers, a place where love was a foreign concept. My mother was a mad woman, her mind often lost in a haze. Sometimes she would forget about me entirely, her thoughts barricading her from reality. I learned early on not to rely on her for comfort or stability.

My father, known to the world as Voldemort, was a figure cloaked in darkness. They said he was incapable of love, that he thrived on fear and power. But he treated me better than my mother did—at least, that's what I told myself. I liked to believe that in his own twisted way, he cared for me, had plans for me that were too grand for me to understand at a young age.

There was an old man, Crest, who took care of me. Loyal to the Dark Lord, Crest was my guardian and protector. He was the one constant in my chaotic life, showing me a kind of rough love that I clung to desperately. Crest raised me, teaching me about the world as best as he could within the constraints of my father’s will.

The first lesson I learned however was my father doing.

I remember the day vividly. I was young, perhaps seven or eight. My father and I were in one of the dark, cold rooms of our mansion. He was lecturing me, as he often did, about power and control.

"Mattheo," he began, his voice a cold, steady hiss. "Do you understand what love is?"

I looked up at him, my small frame trembling slightly. "It's when you care about someone, right?"

He laughed, a sound devoid of warmth. "Love is a weakness, a flaw in human nature. It makes you vulnerable."

Just then, Crest entered the room. My eyes lit up and I ran to him, seeking the comfort his presence always provided. "Crest!"

The old man smiled at me, his eyes filled with a kind of sad affection.

My father’s gaze turned icy. "Do you respect Crest, Mattheo?"

I nodded vigorously. "I love him."

Voldemort’s expression hardened. "Love is dangerous, Mattheo. It can be used against you. Watch."

He pulled out a wand, and my eyes widened with a mix of fear and fascination. I had always wanted to use one, to feel its power.

"Take it," he ordered, handing me the wand.

I grasped it with trembling hands, looking up at him uncertainly.

"Kill him," he commanded, his voice icy and implacable.

My heart froze. "No, Father, please..."

Crest's eyes widened with fear, but he remained still, resigned to his fate.

"Do it, Mattheo," Voldemort insisted. "Show me you are strong."

I couldn’t move. I couldn't do it. My hands shook violently.

In a swift, merciless motion, my father pointed his own wand at Crest and uttered the curse. "Avada Kedavra."

A flash of green light filled the room, and Crest's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. I screamed and ran to his side, clutching his hand.

The first lesson I learned was to never show my emotions, never reveal my weaknesses. My father knew everyone’s vulnerabilities, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against us.

I remember that day, I remember it too well.

As I walked further from our home, the sense of impending doom grew stronger. The shadows seemed darker, the air colder. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, the whispers of darkness growing louder in my mind. Suddenly, Death Eaters began to materialize around me, their presence suffocating and malevolent.

Then he appeared, emerging from the darkness like a specter. Voldemort. My father. His smile was cruel, his eyes gleaming with a twisted kind of pride. "Son," he greeted, his voice a cold, slithering whisper.

I stood my ground, glaring at him, refusing to move. "Aren’t you happy to see your father?" he asked, his tone mocking.

I felt a surge of anger and pain. "Why would I be happy?”

His smile widened, more sinister than before. "Did you not try to find me? Did you not wish for my return?"

"I didn’t want you to return," I spat, the words filled with a defiance that surprised even me.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck me. I looked up to see Bellatrix, my mother, her eyes wild with madness. "You dare speak to your father that way?" she shrieked.

I smiled, blood trickling from my mouth. "What do you care, Mother? You were too busy losing your mind to notice anything else."

Her face contorted with rage, and she raised her hand to strike me again. But before she could, she screamed, her body convulsing. I looked up to see Voldemort holding his wand, a cruel smile on his lips.

"No one lays a hand on my heir," he said, his voice dripping with menace. "Bellatrix, you will remember your place. My son is not to be harmed."

His words were powerful, echoing in the dark night. I closed my eyes, trying to block out her screams, the sound tearing at my soul. "Father, stop," I finally managed, my voice hoarse.

Voldemort looked at me, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And what are you doing out here, my boy, in the countryside? Running away, perhaps?"

I knew he already knew the truth, but I couldn’t let him see it. "I needed some air. I was restless."

"Restless," he repeated, the word dripping with sarcasm. "Or were you trying to escape your responsibilities, your destiny?"

I stood up slowly, trying to gather my strength. "Believe what you want. It doesn’t change anything."

He took a step closer, his gaze piercing. "You think you can hide from me? You think you can live a normal life, away from the darkness that binds us? You are my son, my heir. And you will learn to embrace your destiny, whether you like it or not."

I met his eyes, my own filled with defiance. "I think I can try. I don’t want to be like you."

His laughter was cold, echoing through the night. "You are my son. You cannot escape what you are."

I clenched my fists, the anger and helplessness threatening to overwhelm me. "I can. And I will."

Voldemort’s expression hardened, the amusement gone. "Do not test me, Mattheo. You are my heir. You have a destiny to fulfill."

My father’s presence loomed over me, the tension in the air grew palpable. He studied me with those cold, penetrating eyes, and I knew he was far from done with his probing questions.

tell me about this girl you've been spending so much time with."

I tensed, but kept my expression neutral. "She's no one important."

His eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "No one important? Then why do I sense such... attachment?"

"It's nothing, Father," I lied smoothly. "Just a distraction. Something physical. Nothing more."

His laughter was sharp and mocking. "Oh, Mattheo,do you love her?"

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. "No. I don't love her."

Inside, I felt a pang of guilt and sadness. I loved her more than anything, but I couldn't let him see that.

But I had to lie, had to make him believe it was nothing more than a physical connection. She deserved better than to be dragged into this darkness.

"Just physical?" he mused, his tone laced with derision. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify your weakness?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice steady. "It's only physical."

He stepped closer, his gaze piercing through me. "You think you can fool me?"

"It's just a game, Father. A way to pass the time," I insisted, the lie burning on my tongue.

Voldemort's smile widened, cruel and knowing. "You cannot escape your fate, Mattheo. No matter how hard you try to convince yourself otherwise."

I held his gaze, my defiance burning bright despite the fear gnawing at me. "I don’t intend to escape. I’m simply enjoying my life."

His laughter echoed in the dark night, cold and merciless. "Enjoying your life? How quaint. You think you can hide your true feelings from me?"

"I have no true feelings for her," I lied again, the words tasting bitter.

"Well then," he said, his eyes glinting with malice, "if she truly means nothing, it would be of no consequence if she were to... disappear." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. "In fact, I think it might be a good test of your loyalty."

I fought to keep my face expressionless, to hide the terror clawing at my insides, to act unbothered. "Do as you wish," I replied, my voice steady.

"Bellatrix," Voldemort called, turning to my mother, who was watching with wild eyes. "Go and find this girl. Make sure her end is... memorable."

My mother eyes gleamed with a sick excitement. "Yes, my Lord."

I forced myself to remain still, to show no reaction, even as my heart pounded in my chest.

"Make it painful," Voldemort added, his eyes focusing on me. "I want her to suffer, to know the price of being a distraction."

I could feel the bile rising in my throat, but I kept my face impassive. It was only when Bellatrix turned to leave that the words burst from my lips.

"Don't," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Voldemort turned back to me, his expression one of cold amusement. "What was that?"

His hand gripping my chin tightly. "You are a fool, Mattheo. You have created a weakness for yourself, and now that weakness must be eradicated."

"Father," I said, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me, "you will not lay a hand on her."

He laughed softly, the sound devoid of any warmth. "You think you can order me, boy? This girl must die to teach you a lesson. A lesson to remind you of your responsibilities, of your true nature."

His grip tightened painfully. "You will not put a hand on her," I repeated, my voice firm, my gaze locked with his.

His eyes burned with cold fury, and his lips curled into a sinister smile. "Very well, Mattheo," he said, his voice dripping with malevolent amusement. "Follow me."

I followed him through the darkened corridors of the manor, my heart pounding with each step. My mind raced, trying to anticipate his next move, but nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to witness.

We entered a dimly lit room, and there, suspended in mid-air, was Charity Burbage, a former professor at Hogwarts. Her eyes were wide with terror, and her pleas for mercy echoed through the room.

"Charity," Voldemort greeted with false courtesy. "I believe you know my son, Mattheo."

Charity's eyes flicked to me, filled with desperation. "Mattheo, please," she pleaded. "Help me."

I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to help her, but I knew the cost of defying Voldemort. He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. "This is a lesson for you, this is what happens to those who betray us."

Charity's eyes locked onto mine. "Mattheo," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face, her cries grew louder, more frantic. "Mattheo, please! You can stop this!"

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, but I knew better than to show any sign of weakness.

I felt a surge of helpless rage, my blood boiling with the need to act, to do something, but I remained rooted to the spot. Voldemort raised his wand, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Avada Kedavra," he said softly, almost reverently.

A flash of green light filled the room, and Charity's pleas were silenced forever. Her lifeless body crumpled to the floor, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Voldemort turned to me, his expression a mask of twisted satisfaction.

"This," he said, gesturing to Charity's body, "is what happens when you allow yourself to be weak. Do you understand, Mattheo?"

I swallowed hard, fighting back the bile that rose in my throat. "Yes, Father," I forced out, my voice hoarse.

He stepped closer, his eyes boring into mine. "You must learn to sever your attachments, to purge yourself of any weakness. Only then will you be truly strong."

"You must prove your loyalty. Now, about this girl of yours. I want you to kill her."

Before I could respond, one of the Death Eaters, snickered and said, "Bet she's a pretty little thing. Will she allow a Death Eater in her bed, or just the heir?"

Rage boiled within me, and before I knew it, I had my wand out. "Crucio!"

His screamed in agony, writhing on the floor. Voldemort watched with a smirk, clearly amused. "Such passion, Mattheo. But your actions only prove that she must die."

Voldemort's gaze hardened, and he turned to another Death Eater. "Bring our guest."

The doors swung open, and I saw Y/N's father being dragged in, his eyes wild with terror.

"Kill him, Mattheo," Voldemort ordered, his eyes glinting with malicious glee.

I had promised Y/N I wouldn’t harm her father, but now, faced with this command, I was torn. "Kill him, Mattheo," Voldemort repeated. "Or the girl dies."

Y/N's father fell to his knees, his voice trembling. "Kill her! Kill her instead, please! I will serve you, my lord. I will be loyal!”

Voldemort approached me, his eyes glittering with a cruel satisfaction. "You see, Mattheo, even the most desperate will turn on those they love to save themselves, even his own father doesn’t think she’s worth saving."

"You can kill her please, you can—"

His pleas were cut short as I cast the killing curse, my wand steady, my resolve unshaken. I felt no regret, no sorrow.

Voldemort’s cruel smile returned. "Well done, my boy. Now, let’s see where your true loyalties lie."

He stepped closer, his voice dripping with venom. "Choose, Mattheo. Your precious girl, or your little brother."

My heart twisted in my chest. "What?"

He laughed, the sound cold and hollow. "I’m merely testing you. But make no mistake. Once the girl dies, you will be free, Mattheo. Free from these weaknesses."

I stood there, my mind reeling, trying to hold on to some semblance of control. "You must choose," he continued, his voice relentless. "Do you want to protect her, or do you want to protect yourself and your family, your friends?"

I clenched my fists, meeting Voldemort's cold gaze with defiance.

"Think carefully, my boy. Love is a chain that binds you. Cut it, and you will be stronger. Cut it, and you will be free."

“I would leave her, end things with her, but you just had to leave her out of it”' I said, my voice quivering with suppressed emotion. The words spilled out with a strength I didn't know I had, my heart shattering as I spoke.His expression remained impassive.

"promise me, father, Promise me that you'll leave her out of this. She's innocent, she has nothing to do with any of this. And I swear to end things with her, take my duties and responsibilities, you just have to give me your word, that’s the first time I ask anything from you and would be the last"

His eyes gleamed with triumph. "Very well, Mattheo. Go, end things with her, and return to me. No one shell hurt her, you have my word. But remember, any mistake, and not just the girl dies. You will have to choose someone else to die as punishment for your disobedience. Understand?"

I swallowed my rage, forced myself to nod. "Yes, I understand."

As I left the room, I saw Enzo, my little brother, standing in the hallway. "What are you doing here?" I demanded angrily.

"It’s his duty," Voldemort answered for him, placing a hand on Enzo's shoulder.

I felt a surge of protectiveness and fury, but I hid it. "I will return soon," I said, my voice steady.

Voldemort's eyes bore into mine. "See that you do, Mattheo. See that you do."

I walked away, my mind a storm of emotions, knowing that my every step was being watched, and every decision weighed with life and death.

It was well past midnight when I finally opened the front door. My heart pounded as I walked in, the weight of what I had to do pressing down on me. The moment I saw her, my resolve wavered. Before I could think, my lips crashed onto hers in a desperate, hungry kiss.

“Mattheo,” she whispered against my mouth, but I silenced her with another kiss, more demanding this time. My hands roamed her body, pulling her closer, needing to reassure myself that she was real, that she was here.

"Mattheo, what's going on?" she tried to ask, but I silenced her again, my fingers gripping her hips tightly.

"Just let me have this," I said softly, my voice cracking. The pain in my heart was unbearable.

I bent her over, yanking down her pants, and thrust into her hard and fast. The intensity of my movements was driven by the need to drown out the agony inside me. I couldn't let her see my pain, couldn't let her know how much it was tearing me apart.

“Did something happen, baby?” she managed to gasp out between thrusts, her hands gripping the sheets.

I didn’t answer, just increased my pace, trying to lose myself in the physicality of the moment. The roughness of my touch, the ferocity of my rhythm—it was all I could offer to mask my torment.

“Mattheo, I’m gonna—”

Her scream echoed through the room as she came, her body trembling. I followed moments later, my release silent but powerful, my grip on her tightening as I shuddered.

I pulled out and turned her around, lifting her onto the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with my earlier roughness. Her eyes were filled with concern and confusion.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“I love you too,” she replied, her heartache evident.

I moved within her slowly, each thrust a silent promise. I wanted to cling to her, to hold her forever, but I knew I had to let go. We reached our climax together, and the wave of pleasure was bittersweet.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly when we were done, her head resting on my chest. I didn’t answer, just held her tighter, my arms a protective cocoon around her. I wished I could tell her the truth, but I couldn’t risk it. I had to protect her.

The next morning, I woke up early and slipped out of bed. I stood on the balcony, smoking a cigarette, trying to steel myself for what I had to do. When she came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss to my cheek, it took everything in me not to break down.

"Mattheo," she started, her voice tentative, "please talk to me. What's going on?"

Silence was my only response. I couldn’t risk breaking down, couldn’t risk her seeing the pain I was in.

"Mattheo, please don't shut me out."

I took another slow drag, exhaling the smoke with a sigh, but said nothing. The wall between us was thicker than ever, and it was killing me.

"Do you not trust me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You said you love me, and I believe you. But if you don't let me in, how can we face whatever is bothering you?"

I flicked the cigarette butt over the railing, watching it fall before finally turning to face her. Her eyes were filled with tears, and it broke my heart.

His grip on my hand was firm as he led us back into the room. I sank onto the couch, my heart aching with the weight of what I had to do. She moved to sit beside me, her voice soft and pleading. "Hey, baby, please, what is bothering you?"

I remained a statue, my body rigid, my gaze fixed on the floor. I couldn't bear to look at her.

"We are not going anywhere," I said flatly, cutting her off. The coldness in my voice was a defense mechanism, a way to protect her.

Panic clawed at her throat. "Okay, we can stay home," she stammered, desperately searching for anything to break the suffocating silence.

I stood up abruptly, startling her. I hated doing this, hated the pain I was causing her, but I couldn't risk her life. "Don't you get it?" I spat, my voice laced with bitterness. "This was never supposed to be serious. It was fun, a distraction, but nothing more."

Her breath hitched. "Distraction?"

"But... but I..." she stammered, the words catching in her throat.

"You what, Y/N?" I scoffed, the sound harsh. "Did you think being with me was some grand fairytale? You know who I am, Y/N. There's a legacy to uphold, a family to consider. Did you think you, with your… your ordinary life, could ever fit into that?"

"But… we built a beautiful life together. We talked about our future," she said, her voice choked with tears.

"Future? Y/N, you left your life for me. Your family, your friends, everything. Did you really think I'd just abandon everything I have, my legacy, for… for you?"

"I… I never asked you to abandon anything," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

"But you did," I countered. "You disrupted the plan. You made me question everything."

"But I love you," she whispered, the words fragile and broken. "I gave up everything for you."

"Love? Don't be ridiculous. You were just young and naive, Y/N. You thought escaping your family drama meant finding some happily ever after. This isn't some storybook.”

Her pain was palpable, and it tore me apart. "Did you ever love me, Mattheo? Or was it just another lie?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I met her gaze, forced my eyes to look at her. "No," I said, the word sharp and like a knife to my heart. "I liked you, Y/N. I enjoyed the… distraction. But this? This isn't love."

Her tears fell uncontrollably as she sank onto the couch. I wanted to wipe them away, to hold her and tell her the truth, but I couldn't. I had to protect her, even if it meant breaking her heart.

"I'll leave," I said. "You can stay here."

I grabbed my phone and keys, my movements mechanical. I walked towards the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing in the room. As the final echo died down, I felt a piece of my heart shatter.

I hated myself for doing this, for hurting her. But I couldn't risk her life. I couldn't let her become another pawn in my father's game. And so, I walked away, leaving a part of my soul behind with her.

Days passed in a blur of darkness and duty. Each moment without Y/N felt like a knife twisting deeper into my soul. I couldn’t risk going back to her, couldn’t show any sign of weakness. I had to prove to my father that it was over, that she no longer held any power over me. But the truth was, life without her was a torment I could barely endure.

My father spoke often of power and darkness, of the strength that came from severing emotional ties. His lessons were cruel, I tried to focus on the tasks at hand, to immerse myself in the dark teachings of my father, but every thought inevitably led back to her. Y/N. The name echoed in my mind like a forbidden incantation, a ghost haunting my every waking moment.

my father called us together. Enzo stood beside me, his face a mask of grim determination. Voldemort’s voice was low, commanding. "Enzo, you will lead this mission. I need you to retrieve a very special item from the Ministry."

Enzo’s eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

I felt a surge of protectiveness. "Father, let me do it."

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. "Are you questioning my orders, Mattheo?"

Before I could respond, Enzo placed a hand on my arm. "Don’t, Mattheo."

Another Death Eater sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Listen to your bastard brother, heir."

The words ignited a fire within me. I turned to face him, my wand already in hand. "Say that again."

He laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. "Why? Enzo is a bastard from a whore. Bellatrix is nothing but a—"

"Then by your logic," I interrupted, my voice cold and dangerous, "I’m a bastard too. So call me that. Go on."

The room went silent. The Death Eater’s smirk faltered, but he pressed on. "You’re—"

"Crucio!" I shouted, and the man collapsed, writhing in agony. I held the spell, watching as he screamed, my rage boiling over.

Theodore, Draco, and Blaise watched, their expressions a mix of shock and approval. Enzo whispered urgently, "Mattheo, stop."

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I intensified the curse, the man’s screams echoing off the walls. Another Death Eater stepped forward, trying to intervene, but I cast another Cruciatus Curse, sending him to the floor beside the first.

"You see that, Father?" I said, my voice shaking with fury. "I’m really your son after all."

Voldemort’s lips curled into a proud smile.

I left the room, my heart pounding, my mind a storm of conflicting emotions. I found myself in my room, my hand on the wall, pressing so hard that it started to bleed. I slid down to the ground, the pain a welcome distraction from the torment in my soul.

Darkness was consuming me, gnawing away at what little light I had left. I was becoming the very thing I despised, a creature of the shadows, a pawn of my father. Each day, I felt myself slipping further into the abyss, the line between right and wrong blurring until it was almost indistinguishable.

I found Luna Lovegood in one of the cold, damp cells of the dungeons. Her ethereal calmness was a stark contrast to the despair around her. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice harsher than I intended.

"They took me because I know too much," she said simply, her wide eyes unafraid, I shook my head to her to shut up.

She was here because he believed her father’s magazine might contain hidden messages or useful information for the Order of the Phoenix.

"She doesn't know anything, Father. I assure you," I said, turning to Voldemort.

He refused to free her. "At least don’t treat her like a hostage," I pleaded. With a reluctant nod from him, I took Luna to a more comfortable room.

"Thank you," she said softly, sitting down on the bed.

As I turned to leave, she spoke again. "They say she hasn’t left home for days."

I froze. "What?"

"The one you're thinking about," Luna continued, her voice gentle. "A magical creature only I can see told me. They say Y/N hasn’t left the house. She still thinks you’re coming back. She feels miserable, she is in so much pain."

I clenched my fists, trying to suppress the rage boiling inside me. "So are you, Mattheo," Luna added quietly.

I left the room, the anger and guilt eating at me. The thought of Y/N in pain, waiting for me, tore at my soul. I wanted to let the whole world burn for what it was doing to her. I wanted to go to her, to tell her I had lied, that I had never loved anything as I loved her. But I couldn’t.

As I stalked through the dark hallway my father appeared. His cold eyes assessed me, and I steeled myself against his scrutiny.

"Feeling conflicted, my boy?" Voldemort asked, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

I met his gaze, trying to appear strong. "I know my duty," I said flatly.

He leaned in, his voice a sinister whisper. "Good. It would be unfortunate if you decided to go back to old distractions. There are consequences, you know, for losing focus."

His words were a veiled threat, a reminder of what he could do to Y/N if I faltered. I nodded, the cold dread settling in my stomach. "I understand, Father."

"Remember, Mattheo," he said, straightening up. "Power and loyalty are what matter. Attachments are weaknesses."

I watched him walk away, my heart heavy with the weight of my choices. The darkness was consuming me, and I didn’t know how much longer I could resist it.

The day passes in a haze of anger and I leaned against the cold stone wall, watching the chaos unfold. The room was thick with tension and suspicion as Death Eaters hurled accusations at each other.

Whispers of a shadow, an elusive killer who moved unseen, had spread fear among them. They couldn't figure out who he was or where he came from. He was a ghost, a phantom that slipped through their fingers, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.

"This is your fault, Dolohov!" Mother snarled, her wild eyes blazing with fury. "If you had secured the perimeter, this wouldn't be happening!"

"Don't be absurd, Bellatrix," Dolohov shot back, his wand raised defensively. "Your incompetence is what's allowing this to happen. If you had been more vigilant—"

"Silence!"

Father’s voice cut through the din like a knife, freezing everyone in their tracks. The Dark Lord's eyes swept the room, his face a mask of cold rage. The tension was palpable as he raised his wand and pointed it at one of his most trusted lieutenants, Thorne.

Thorne, a tall, gaunt man with a face as sharp as his intellect, met Voldemort's gaze with a mix of shock and terror. "My Lord, I—"

"Avada Kedavra."

The flash of green light illuminated the chamber for a split second, and then Thorne crumpled to the ground, lifeless. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I watched one of Voldemort's most trusted men die so easily, so unceremoniously. The room was silent, the only sound the crackling of the torches on the walls.

My father’s gaze shifted, meeting mine. I held his stare, my expression carefully neutral, unbothered by the carnage.

"Mattheo," he said, his voice a low hiss. "What is your opinion on this shadow? Who is he?"

I shrugged, feigning indifference. "You should focus on who he isn't, Father."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

I let my eyes drift over the room, taking in the faces of the remaining Death Eaters.

"I think the traitor is someone who knows us well, someone who can anticipate our moves. It might be wise to look closer to home," I said, my voice laced with subtle insinuation. "Perhaps even among those we trust the most."

A murmur of unease spread through the room as they cast suspicious glances at each other.

My father studied me, and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He knew I was toying with him, but he couldn't quite place the blame.

"If that's all, Father, I have matters to attend to," I said, pushing off the wall. I gave a small bow, excusing myself. "I'll be in my quarters if you need me."

As I walked away, the weight of my secret plan settled on my shoulders. It was I who was killing the Death Eaters, removing them one by one. To keep her safe, I needed to weaken my father, and to do that, I had to dismantle his support system. Only a fool would face Voldemort head-on, and I am no fool.

As I left the room, the shadows seemed to close in around me, but I welcomed them. They were my allies, my cover. And soon, they would be the downfall of the Dark Lord himself.

Days passed but I couldn't escape it. Her voice, her pain, it haunted me. The bed was cold and empty without her warmth, and I felt her absence like a physical wound. Every second without her was torture, but I had to stay away. I had to protect her from the darkness I had become entangled in. But knowing she was suffering because of me was unbearable.

Someone knocked hard on my door, breaking through my thoughts. I opened it to find Luna, her usually serene demeanor shattered. She was trembling, speaking in disjointed sentences that barely made sense. I took her gently by the shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Luna, breathe. What's wrong?" I asked urgently, my voice betraying my own turmoil.

"she’s killing myself slowly," she blurted out, her eyes wide with desperation. "You need to stop it. It's already too late."

Without another word, I stormed out of the room, fury boiling inside me. I reached my father's chamber and nearly tore the door off its hinges as I entered. "You gave your word you wouldn’t do anything to her!" I shouted, my voice echoing off the stone walls.

Voldemort turned to me, his expression calm, almost amused. "It must be over by now," he said with a cold smile. "You'll thank me."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, my heart racing.

"I freed you," he said simply, his words cutting through me like a blade.

Realization hit me like a blow to the chest. I turned and ran, my mind racing as fast as my feet. I had to get to her.

As I tore through the hallways of the manor, the walls blurred around me. My mind was singularly focused on Y/N. I reached the main hall, and in a fit of rage and desperation.

I raised my wand."Incendio!" Flames erupted around me, spreading quickly through the manor. The heat was intense, the fire consuming everything in its path. I didn't care. Let it burn. Let it all burn.

I burst out of the castle, the cold night air hitting my face as I Apparated as close as I could to our house. My heart pounded in my chest as I sprinted the rest of the way, every step bringing me closer to her.

My breath came in ragged gasps as I finally reached the house, my hands shaking as I opened the door. "Y/N!" I called out, my voice desperate. "Y/N, where are you?"

The house was eerily silent, the weight of her absence suffocating. A scream come from our room and I run to it, she fell, the floor rushing up to meet her. But just before unconsciousness claimed her, I caught her, gripping her body, arresting her fall.

“Y/N!” I shouted, my voice urgent and laced with panic. Her vision was blurry, and she blinked, disoriented and delirious.

“What have you done, love?” I asked, my voice ragged with worry. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t form. The

“It hurts so much,” she managed to gasp, tears mixing with the blood trickling down her nose.

“I know, baby, I know,” I murmured. “Just tell me, please, what have you done?”

“I just wanted it to stop,” she rasped, pointing weakly at her heart, its every beat a thrumming ache. “It hurt so much.” Her gaze drifted beyond my shoulder.

“He… he’s back?” Her voice was a rasp, barely audible, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth.

“Shh, love, don’t try to talk,” I soothed, my grip tightening protectively around her. “What have you done to her?” I turned to my father.

“Just showed her a way to numb the pain,”

she reached for my hand, “Don’t be afraid, love,” I murmured into her hair.

“It wasn’t the deal!” I said, “I told you I would leave her, I would leave everything, but you just had to leave her out of it!”

“I’m helping you, child,” my father said, his voice devoid of emotion. “You pushed her away, but you love her. That cannot happen. You need to get rid of your weakness.”

“Shut up!” I said, my eyes blazing. “Shut the fuck up. You leave her out of this!” She choked on a fresh wave of blood. A terrible realization dawned on me – she was dying.

“You’re not dying,” I whispered fiercely, "You’re not dying, baby. I won’t allow it.”

“It’s okay,” she rasped, her voice barely audible.

“It’s not!”

“Can you say it like you used to? Can you tell me that you love me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I want to hear you say it one last time.”.

“No, because you are not dying,” I insisted, turning my blazing gaze back to my father. “Save her, do something and save her or I swear, I won’t just leave you. I will make sure to ruin you, ruin everything you built, kill you for good this time.”

“Mattheo,” she whispered, her voice weak but determined. I looked down at her.

“You’re not dying,” I repeated.

“Look at me, love,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Keep your eyes on me. Keep those beautiful eyes on me, baby.”

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away her tear. “You’re the love of my life, and I love you more than life itself,” I declared, my voice thick with emotion.

A weak smile touched her lips. Before She closed her eyes.

"Y/N?" I called softly.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[baylz]

MHA BOYS LOVE LANGUAGE

ft. katsuki & shoto

song: My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

a/n: idk i was feeling silly

divider credit to: @enchanthings

QUALITY TIME: SHOTO

It is a known fact that Shoto really values his alone time. There will be cases where he'll just want a couple hours to himself after a draining school day or even spending a weekend at his fathers. There are no exceptions. Well, at least there were no exceptions. Until you came along. Before you, he had never felt comfortable to let someone else into his personal bubble. But then, he began to yearn for the security and comfort your presence brought him and you knew this was his silent way of loving you.

Shoto was in the hospital after the gruesome battle with his older brother, Toya. Visitors and nurses were in and out of his room and he didn't speak a word to them. He was blankly staring at the window at his bedside when you came in, carrying a tray of food. "I made some soba for you." Your words felt so carefully thought out. it was almost like you were afraid to say anything else. You cautiously made your way around the bed as he watched you, setting the tray down with a clink. You straightened yourself and cleared your throat, "I know you you want to be alone right now, so I'll be outside if you need me." His bandaged hand caught your wrist before you could leave, his grip slack due to his weakened state. "I need you." He begged, his voice hoarse. "We don't even have to talk. I just want you next to me."

ACTS OF SERVICE: KATSUKI

Just like shoto, he isn't a man of many words. Well, not until after the war, of course. He wasn't as vocal as he used to be. He doesn't yell as much or even throw an angry glare your way when you do something stupid. Regardless of that, he has never been the type to voice his affections to begin with. Don't get him wrong, he does love you, but he shows it in his own weirdly romantic way. There will be instances where Katsuki just KNOWS things and it's creepy. Like you'll be standing infront of the vending machine after training, unsure of what drink to get. And then suddenly, he's right beside you with your favorite refreshment.

"How did you-"

"You always think you're gonna wanna 'try something new' but end up getting the same thing." He would say it as if it was a noticeable habit. As if anyone would easily figure this out about you.

"Thank you?" You hesitantly took the drink from his hand because what else could you really do?

"Mhm."

© BAYLZ 2024 | PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST MY WORKS ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS TO CLAIM AS YOURS

[darkhearted]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ* ARRANGED MARRIAGE SENTENCE STARTERS 3.0

arranged marriage themed starters based on this, only revamped and with many added lines! change pronouns, names, or make any other adaptations as needed!

UNHAPPY MATCHES

❝ I would rather die than marry the likes of you. ❞

❝ I will run away! I won’t accept this marriage! ❞

❝ I cannot accept this. I will not marry them – my heart belongs to someone else. ❞

❝ Please – please do not make me wed them! ❞

❝ Anyone else would be better! Please, I know you can find me a better match! ❞

❝ I will never love you! ❞

❝ It isn’t fair! I don’t even know them! ❞

❝ Why him? Can't I marry [name] instead? ❞

❝ He doesn't want me, nor I him. Why force us to marry? ❞

❝ Find me another bride. Any other bride. ❞

❝ I don't want to marry him and go to the other side of the realm, away from everything and everyone I have ever known. ❞

❝ She is not the bride I want. You know that. ❞

❝ She is as pretty as a painting, and lovely in every sense, I'm sure. So give her to a husband who will love her, and let me have the one my heart desires. ❞

❝ I agreed to it for an alliance, and her family failed to deliver. I will not marry her. ❞

❝ I'm a prince of the realm, even if I'm not heir to the throne. This match is beneath me. ❞

❝ I will not accept a bride that is not of our lineage. Our ancient blood is not to be mixed with the blood of other men. ❞

❝ Why must I marry the enemy for the sake of an alliance? Why am I the adequate sacrifice to make? ❞

❝ She hates me, she hates all of our family, and for good reason. Don't make me marry her. ❞

❝ My entire family is dead because of his. His entire family is dead because of mine. Do you truly believe marrying us will be enough? ❞

❝ Joining our two bloodlines solves nothing. There is no undoing the bloodshed between us. ❞

❝ He loved her. He will never love me. ❞

❝ Go through with it and you're sentencing him to death. I do not jest when I say I will rid myself of him sooner or later. ❞

DUTY

❝ Do not touch me! I only married you for duty, stay away from me! ❞

❝ I shall fulfill my duty, but that is all. Please do not touch me unless you must. ❞

❝ I do not care what you want, we did not marry out of love. ❞

❝ We are only marrying because I need an heir. What you do and with who beyond that does not matter to me. ❞

❝ Even though I have been told this would be my duty my entire life, I still can’t quite accept it. ❞

❝ You knew this day would come. People like us only marry for duty, dear. ❞

❝ Love is not the priority for the likes of us. ❞

❝ Marrying for love is a delusion. ❞

❝ Ours is a union of duty. You would do well to remember that. ❞

❝ Every good child knows: duty before your heart’s desire. ❞

❝ I shall marry you only because I must. ❞

❝ Even if we married for duty, our union can still become one of true love. ❞

❝ Duty brought us together, but it is love that will make this bearable. ❞

❝ I do not have to like it, only to fulfill my duty. ❞

❝ I know you wouldn't have chosen me, as I wouldn't have chosen you. But it's our duty to see this through. ❞

❝ I have to place duty first. It's what is expected of me. ❞

❝ I have been betrothed to him for years. I have to do my duty, even if I yearn to be with you instead. ❞

❝ This will be more bearable if we both fulfill our duties. ❞

❝ I am not what you wanted, but I swear to you I shall fulfill my duties as your husband as well as I can — and leave you alone as much as you wish, should that be your preference. ❞

LOVE

❝ Love can be built, too. And if you’re willing, I would like to try and learn to love you. ❞

❝ I do not care about power and wealth. I want to marry for love. ❞

❝ A marriage is a marriage – love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment. ❞

❝ My father used to say the strongest loves are built by choice, not by chance. ❞

❝ Do you believe in love at first sight? I think I’m already in love with you. ❞

❝ You will learn to love. You have to be determined to grow a love that will sustain your marriage for a lifetime.  ❞

❝ We were friends once, do you remember? I know much has happened since, but there was fondness between us before. Perhaps there may yet be love, one day. ❞

❝ I know there is blood and war between us, that we have both lost much, but I do not wish for either of us to feel like this union is a prison. I wish for love — or respect, at the very least. ❞

❝ We are the last ones alive after years of war. This match was meant to unify our enemy bloodlines and end the conflict, no more — so why is it I find myself caring for you? ❞

❝ Your mother and I married for love, but we are the exception, not the rule. ❞

❝ I want to elope, like mother and father did. ❞

❝ We are already betrothed — why not marry right now? ❞

❝ We were meant for each other from the moment we were born. I would make you my wife right this instant, should that be your wish. ❞

❝ I hadn't dared dream an arranged match would find me a wife I now love more than life itself. ❞

❝ If I believed such things, I would say we were always meant to be. ❞

❝ My betrothed is sweet — but I long for deep, passionate, all-consuming love, not sweet. ❞

❝ If you want my love, show me your devotion. ❞

❝ Is it evil that I'm unsure I can love him? He is perfectly suitable, but... ❞

❝ I do not think he can love me. We get along well enough, but something is missing. ❞

❝ We have fire in our blood. There will never be love between us if he fears the flames. ❞

❝ The sea is in our blood. He can only love me if he is brave enough to navigate the waves. ❞

❝ We are rulers of the skies. How could he ever love someone who lacks her own wings? ❞

STRIFE

❝ You refuse me to give yourself to a peasant?! ❞

❝ I understand not wanting me, but favoring a commoner instead? I should kill him for daring to get close to you. ❞

❝ You are mine now. Act properly. ❞

❝ Who you loved before is meaningless. We are married now, and your lover will remain in the past. ❞

❝ I am your wife! I will not be humiliated like this. ❞

❝ Do not forget who I am, my lord. Married though we may be, I'm a crown princess still — and my family shall not take kindly to you mistreating me. ❞

❝ Am I so inadequate as your wife that you need to seek another's bed? ❞

❝ I know peace and politics dictated our marriage, but must you avoid me so? ❞

❝ Leave me be. I fulfill my marital duties as required, but I am not bound to give anything more. ❞

❝ You did not want me, and I did not want you. We agreed on that. So why are you so offended I enjoy the company of another when you yourself do the same? ❞

❝ What do you wish of me, husband? Is it not enough to have the last of my living kin locked in her chambers? To sit the throne you have taken from my father? What more can you desire from me? ❞

❝ I hate this place. It will never be home, and I will never love you. ❞

❝ You are my wife. I would not see my lady wife looking miserable for all court to see. ❞

❝ You are my queen. Do you realize how many other maidens would kill to be in your place, even as you sulk about it? ❞

❝ My own brother, taking my wife to bed? I did not expect such a betrayal from the two of you. ❞

❝ My sister was the better option, I know. You would have preferred she was the one given to you, but alas, we cannot always have what we want. ❞

❝ The man I most despise in this world, and you see it fit to spend time in his company?! I cannot accept it from my betrothed. ❞

❝ You are my betrothed. I would know what you were doing with him. ❞

❝ My lord should know I will not take kindly to mistresses once we are wedded. ❞

❝ You are mine — or will be, soon enough. Do not dare even look at another. ❞

❝ This was my home once, and you ruined it. ❞

ARRANGEMENTS

❝ You will not give my only child to that monster! ❞

❝ It's insulting that you would even suggest a match so beneath my daughter. ❞

❝ She is a princess. She won’t be wed to someone lesser. ❞

❝ You marry our daughter to whomever you desire, when my corpse is cold in my grave, husband. ❞

❝ He will marry the one we chose, not that peasant! ❞

❝ Wed your son to my daughter, or my daughter to your son — better yet, both. Our bloodlines should be joined as one. ❞

❝ Our daughters and your sons. Wouldn't it be lovely to have them wedded? ❞

❝ My granddaughter should sooner slit that man's throat than share his bed. I should advise her to do just that. ❞

❝ My daughter will marry him, for the good of the realm. I do not care how old he is. ❞

❝ You will do as you’re told and marry them! ❞

❝ We picked the best match available for you. ❞

❝ It is the best we managed. I am sorry you don’t like them, but there was no other way. ❞

❝ You are a princess. You will have to agree to a match eventually. ❞

❝ There are so many good proposals! How come none is to your tastes? ❞

❝ Our bloodline must continue, and for that, you need to marry and have heirs. ❞

❝ I will never let them ship you off to a stranger. ❞

❝ You will not be sold for power like I was. ❞

❝ I won’t let them trade you for their alliance! ❞

❝ The arrangement was made when you were both still children. It is much too late to go back on it. ❞

❝ Only kings would be worthy of you. We will accept no less on your behalf. ❞

❝ It is a good match, better than expected. You will marry her. ❞

❝ My daughter will not marry him. I do not care that he's a prince, nor that it could aid in building peace. That boy will not have her. ❞

❝ I do not care if you would go through with it. I would die before letting that boy have you — better yet, I would rather kill him. ❞

❝ They did not honor their word. I know that for years you expected to marry him, but we are calling off the betrothal. ❞

❝ She will make a fine queen and a fine mother. And she is the only adequate match for you besides, whether you like it or not. ❞

❝ We need to find a suitable match for her, before she brings dishonor upon herself. ❞

❝ They have been betrothed for years. It is time we marry them, I should think. ❞

❝ You shall be wedded soon. His claim will be more secure with suitable heirs of his own. ❞

BEGINNINGS

❝ You are not at all what I imagined. ❞

❝ I know you hold no love for me. How could you when we are practically strangers? And I know we may never come to love each other, but we can at least be friends. ❞

❝ The descriptions I heard did not do justice to your beauty. ❞

❝ You are lovely. I am lucky you are to be wed to me. ❞

❝ I must admit I expected far worse from an arranged marriage. ❞

❝ I want to know you better if we are to be wed. Tell me about the things you like. ❞

❝ Am I not what you expected? ❞

❝ You seem disappointed… I may not be as handsome as you expected, but I shall never treat you unkindly. ❞

❝ This is your home too, now. You are free to go wherever you wish. ❞

❝ How odd we have been betrothed for so long but never saw each other before our wedding day. ❞

❝ It's good, to finally put a face to the name I heard spoken so often. ❞

❝ What can I possibly do to thaw the ice surrounding my lovely bride? ❞

❝ I have not seen you smile since we met, princess. What grave sin have I committed to be met with such derision? ❞

❝ I loathe to admit that even your traitor's blood cannot diminish how beautiful you are. ❞

❝ Beautiful, as well as clever. Were you not the usurper's daughter, I may have come to love you. ❞

❝ So very charming. Were you not sitting my father's throne, I may have taken some liking to you. ❞

❝ We've met before, I know, I know. But can we not make this a new beginning? ❞

❝ I should like to put our differences behind us, difficult though it may be. We are to be wedded, after all. Let this be a new beginning. ❞

❝ I hope, in time, this will be your home. ❞

❝ Know that I shall fulfill every duty to you, as your wife. ❞

❝ I know there are prettier brides, but I'll do all that is expected of me most dutifully. ❞

THE MATCHED

❝ In just a few days I will be wed to someone I never met. ❞

❝ It's so odd to think my entire life will change so fast. A person I don’t even know, bound to me for life. ❞

❝ I know they plan to marry me off to someone soon, even if no one said a thing yet. ❞

❝ How could you agree to this without even asking me what I want? ❞

❝ I do not wish to leave home. My betrothed lives in such a different place… ❞

❝ We have been promised to each other for years, and yet we have never met. ❞

❝ They are deciding your life for you! How can you simply accept it?! ❞

❝ There is no reason to make a fuss. I have known for years that someday I would be married to some stranger my family found suitable. ❞

❝ What do you think your betrothed will be like? ❞

❝ Who do you think they'll marry us to? ❞

❝ What do you think of your betrothed so far? You two seemed to get along. ❞

❝ He is so gallant! I hope they choose him for me. ❞

❝ Wouldn't she make a lovely bride? I would not mind marrying her. ❞

❝ I begged mother to marry [name] instead, but she didn't do anything to change my fate. ❞

❝ I begged them to marry you instead. I know we could have been happy together. ❞

❝ I'm glad you are the one they chose for me. ❞

❝ Were it anyone else, I might rebel. You, I shall gladly marry. ❞

❝ We have been promised for years. Shouldn't we be married already? ❞

❝ I know it is the way of things, but to have a betrothal announced like that... I wasn't expecting it. ❞

❝ He was wedded once before. How can I ever live up to the wife he had before? ❞

❝ What is my betrothed like? ❞

❝ Do I have any say on it? At least give me options and allow me to choose. ❞

FOR THE FAMILIES

❝ Through them, we shall finally join our bloodlines! ❞

❝ Our children make quite the pair. I am glad they seem to get along so easily. ❞

❝ It's a bitter thing, to join hands after everything. More bitter still that it is at the cost of my child's happiness. ❞

❝ Pray your child treats mine well. I will not abide anything less. ❞

❝ He is kind, brave, gentle, strong. Your daughter will be in good hands. ❞

❝ She makes a lovely bride. Lovelier than he deserves. ❞

❝ Poison would be best, but hard to come by. Slit his throat in his sleep and rid yourself of the filth they forced you to marry. ❞

❝ I cannot do as you wish, my love. That decision is beyond me. ❞

❝ As women, we control so little of our fate. ❞

❝ You will one day be his lady, and occupy my place as head of the house alongside your lord husband. A great responsibility, but one I know you shall bear well. ❞

❝ My daughter is what I have of most precious. I pray you cherish her as she deserves. ❞

❝ No alliance will make me accept you as family. You are undeserving of my child. ❞

❝ The king may have ruled in favor of this match, but I have half a mind to slay you where you stand before you can get anywhere near my daughter. ❞

❝ I don't care for peace, I will not give my daughter to the likes of you. ❞

❝ My son will have a fitting queen. Nothing less will suffice. ❞

❝ Sweetling, there's no need for tears. We may not marry for love, but we learn to bear it. ❞

❝ My gentle boy. Would that you could live the romance your heart yearns for. ❞

❝ This will be hard, but if anyone can make it work, I know you can, my child. ❞

❝ None of us could hope to be half as charming as you. If you wish to gain your husband's affection, I'm certain you will succeed. ❞

❝ Do you truly think I'd let my child be married to a monster? Of course I got rid of him. ❞

❝ There is bad blood between our families, but I promise you shall never be treated unkindly here. ❞

❝ Now that you two are wedded, I am hoping for grandchildren soon. ❞

AMBITION AND ALLIANCES

❝ A title is all I am to you. Don't pretend otherwise. ❞

❝ You married me for my claim, I know that! I just thought, given time, we could grow to be fond of each other. ❞

❝ Remember what is at stake. Peace relies on our union. ❞

❝ Both our lands benefit from our match – and I know you will be a good queen. ❞

❝ We were wed for an alliance, but this doesn’t need to be terrible. We can at least be friends. ❞

❝ I married you for your title. I do not care for love. ❞

❝ It would be naive to think a single union will end decades of conflict. This is just the beginning. ❞

❝ They found me someone rich to marry! I will finally have everything I want. ❞

❝ I do not care my betrothed is not handsome – I only care that he is rich. ❞

❝ With this match, I will be queen. ❞

❝ Our marriage strengthens your claim. They cannot quest your heirs, undoubtedly of pure, old blood. ❞

❝ I would marry anyone to become royalty. ❞

❝ This will save our house from doom. ❞

❝ Our son remains unmarried. We may yet use this to form a valuable alliance. ❞

❝ What we decide here is the future of the realm. It needs to be a carefully considered match. ❞

❝ You gained a bride of undisputed lineage for your son. We gained a crown for our daughter. A superb arrangement for all involved, I dare say. ❞

IMPOSSIBLE LOVES

❝ My heart is yours, but we cannot be together. My family would never agree to a match like this. ❞

❝ I too am in love with someone else, but they will never allow me to marry my beloved. Why don’t we make an agreement? ❞

❝ The match is already made but I cannot accept it. I love you! ❞

❝ It is you I love! I could not bear to be with them instead. ❞

❝ Marrying them will give the realm peace. I have to agree to the match, even if you are the one I truly love. ❞

❝ I will never love him as much as I love you. ❞

❝ You would be my choice — but you know the choice is not mine to make. ❞

❝ I'm the heir to the throne. I cannot give up on everything for love. ❞

❝ My father wrote. He said... he said — I am to be married. To — oh gods, he wants to marry me to your brother. ❞

❝ Marry me. I care not if you are beneath my station, I want you. ❞

❝ Would you still have me? I love you, but I know the match made for you would be better. ❞

❝ If you do love me as I love you, marry me. Now. ❞

❝ They cannot make me marry him if we are married already. ❞

❝ You're a prince. We can surely find someone who will agree to wed us if you ask. ❞

❝ Marry me. Your betrothed can do nothing if I've already taken you to wife. ❞

❝ I'll duel him for your hand. ❞

❝ They already whisper about us. Why deny ourselves the pleasure when we're already condemned for the sin? ❞

❝ Only a [family name] can love a [family name]. ❞

❝ As much as I love you, I have nothing. I could give you nothing but my love. ❞

❝ If I can't have you, I shall love only the gods. ❞

❝ If I cannot have her, I shall take no wife and father no children. ❞

❝ Do you have any idea of how torturous that would be? To see you every day, knowing you can never be mine? ❞

❝ I'll make you mine. I won't let you be given to anyone else. ❞

❝ Take no wife. Refuse it. Even if we cannot marry, stay with me. ❞

❝ Promise me you'll never love her. Promise me your heart will remain mine. ❞

[jarofstyles]

prince harry and common girl lover (best friends since childhood) + “we can’t keep hiding like this”

OH YES!!!! A bit of forbidden love.

Check out our Patreon!

------

The wind billowed the edge of the blanket they laid on, hiding underneath the willow tree as the sun got a bit lower in the sky. Being wrapped in Harry's arms was the most safe she ever felt, despite the fact it was the most dangerous place to be. His heart thumped steadily against her cheek, fingers running over the opposite as she felt his eyes burning a hole into her.

"We can't keep hiding like this." His voice rasped, lips turned downward. "I can't handle it anymore, Petal. I've been trying to find ways to be alright with hiding how much of my heart that you own but I keep hitting a wall. I believe it's because something is telling me I shouldn't hide you." He gently ran his knuckle over the bridge of her nose. "I want to tell them. Everyone."

Y/N's eyes burned as she closed them, trying to control the shaky exhale she released. It didn't work. She knew he was an optimist, her beautiful sunshine prince, but he had too much to lose. She couldn't be selfish with him, not when the entire kingdom would rely on him one day. "You know we shouldn't, Harry. You've been promised to someone else since the day you were noticed in your mother's belly." It was hard to control her voice, the weakness of it giving it away to Harry that she was struggling.

Nudging her up, he cupped the side of her face and thumbed over the high round of her cheek. Eyes scanned her face, taking in her slightly wobbly bottom lip and the glaze over her eyes that wrecked him. It shouldn't be this difficult. He shouldn't have to hide the person he loved with his entire being, so much so that she consumed him. He knew his mother would understand, but his father would be resistant. He would tell him that a future king had to make decisions they didn't like, and he would need to abide by the arrangement.

"I want to marry you, Petal." He whispered, connecting their lips at the end of the word. It was a pained kiss, one he was trying to melt into softness. Take away the brittle edges and file them down smoothly, let her feel the way he did. His sweet girl was so afraid, so nervous of what would become of them but Harry couldn't fathom a world without her at his side. "I want you to lay next to me at night, I want your hand in mine, your lips to only ever feel the shape of my own. I crave you every single second you are away from me. Don't you understand? How I yearn for you, I ache. Not just to be inside of you, but to be with you. To listen to your breaths as you sleep, just knowing that you're there." He swallowed thickly, nudging his nose against her own and took another kiss. Harder this time, a harsh breath leaving his nose as he pulled her, moving her dress so she could straddle his lap.

"My love, my sweet, my Petal. Please... allow me to take the risk." He pleaded. "Allow me to tell them of us, let me take the punishments if need be. I will do anything for you." His words were whimpered as he pressed frantic kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I feel like I'm going insane. As the day of the engagement party grows closer, I feel the walls of the castle getting smaller. I feel suffocated. The only time I can breathe is with you." His hands clutched her close, almost as if to prevent her from slipping through his fingers.

"Oh, Harry." She whispered sadly, watching his eyes water. It was unlike him, her sunshine prince. He was so bright, so warm. To see the storm clouds settle over the sun was alarming and she hated the sight. It wasn't right. "Do you think I don't feel the same? That I'm not physically ill at the idea of you bedding someone other than me, even if it is only to provide an heir? Do you think I don't cry in my bed after I leave the sparkling stars and you, wishing I could crawl back to you? But I feel so selfish." She pecked his nose, letting their foreheads rest together. "So, so selfish. What if they strip your title? What if they banish you? What if it's forced regardless and there's a rift between you and your family? I cannot bear the idea of ruining your life. I can't take the sunshine away from you."

The world was quiet. The birds chirped and the branches moved, leaves rustling in the wind, but the only sound they could hear was each others breaths and their own heartbeats in their ears.

"I would let them." He whispered after a moment. "I would let them take it all away from me before I let them take you. I don't think you grasp how much you mean to me. You are my heart." His eyes burned as he looked at her. "I would run with you, I would find us somewhere and build a life with you. Nothing else matters more than you." He sniffled, pressing his lips back against her and laying repetitive kisses to her lips. It was hard to convey just how much he truly loved her. How she had his heart in her hands and his should wrapped around her finger.

"Harry..." She laughed through a tear, looking down at the hand holding her waist tight. "I hope you know I feel the same for you. You're what I need." Her fingers brushed the hair that had fallen into his face, the soft curls unfairly highlighted caramel in the sunlight that bled through the leaves. He was inhumanly handsome. "I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for myself if I don't admit my love for you. I can't be trapped in a loveless marriage when I have a love. The greatest lover there is. I want children with you, I want you by my side. Whether I'm king or not, having you would be my biggest accomplishment." He meant every word. Every beat of his heart belonged to her. "I'm going to tell them. I'm going to make you my wife, regardless of the cost. All I'll ever need is you."

[avatarkv]

I ! Feels like we had matching wounds, but mine's still black and bruised (and yours is perfectly fine now.)

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning: Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! Purely angst, at least for this chapter. Neteyam dies in the forest (the scene were quaritch first holds everyone hostage) I will not be following his storyline, because that's for you to take 🫵🫵🫵 buckle up.

Song: The Exit, Conan Gray.

You stay with the ikrans. 

Neteyam stepped forward without hesitation, stomach in knots with anxiety. “Father, I’m a warrior. I’m supposed to fight.” 

“I need you here,” he cut through his attempt to follow, nostrils flaring and jaw locked. There was no room for negotiation with the authority that laced his tone. “I need you to listen when I say you stay here.” he jabbed his finger on his chest, sealing him stiffly on the spot. The seconds seemed to hang in the air like lead weights, and any moment lost was an opportunity for danger to strike– he could only thin his lips and sharply nod.

“I mean it, Neteyam.” 

Such a simple ask of his father could have spared him from the rage of war, but how could you not expect the eldest to fight when his very siblings were in danger? Jake should have known better than to trust the empty ‘yes sir’ off his son’s lips– a warrior born out of his own teachings. You couldn’t blame him for following suit the second his parents were out of sight and into the wild.

How did it get to this? Jake’s thoughts would drift every painful step he took further. He knew it was in Lo’ak’s nature to be so reckless, hell, he took after his father himself– but before him, Kiri, or Tuk, it was just you and Neteyam. 

He remembered feeling ecstasy tremble down his whole body when he first cradled Neteyam. The moment the olo’eyktan had presented him to the clan, carrying him for everyone to see, he couldn’t see his son himself with the unshed tears blurring his vision. A part of him was relieved that he took after his mother, thinking it would have been a handful dealing with another Jake– but perhaps it was just a ploy; a first born’s excellence that they soon yearned for another.  

Then you came, another splitting image of Neytiri. The people often mistook you and Neteyam for twins and she’d reveled in the praises you both would get. You were her first daughter— right from the ear-splitting cries you let out the moment you were out of your mother’s womb to the battle cries you had worked on earlier in years, mimicked from Neytiri herself, she always swelled in pride. Unlike the eldest’s reserved composure, you were the opposite; curious and buoyant, yet still as shy and collected. 

It was different with Jake; he was new to this— absolutely clueless and terrified. After you came, the jolt wasn’t similar to Neteyam’s;  you were also his first babygirl. He wondered if he held you correctly, if the natural strictness he had with his son was fitting for you– oh Eywa, he definitely had to relearn weaving with Neytiri. The profound hesitation when it came to you was nerve-wracking, but the way your little hand would make its way around your father’s finger every time would ease the tight crease between his eyebrows, almost like you knew his very troubles. 

You were the kindest, most sweetest child– a daddy’s girl, much to Neytiri’s complaints. 

“Neteyam, scooch!” You yelled in a whisper, trying to desperately hide yourself in thick leaves and bushes. He couldn’t stifle his little giggles either, hearts pumping wildly in anticipation of your father. “Once he comes, remember to run left, alright?” 

He nodded sharply. His face coated in mud in the guise of war paint that you drew yourself. Yours were drawn lousily, the strokes shaky and a mess. 

Fee-fi-fo-fum, he chanted thickly, growing deeper and louder every stomp! The children could see him between the gaps— hands clawed and raised, stance menacing. You can run but you can’t hide! 

Both of you shrunk in suspense, eager to best your father in playtime. 

Then it was silent. Too silent. Your ears lifted curiously, eyes scanning the area only to be greeted by your father parting the leaves and surprising you both. You squealed a run and bolted to the right. Not even a second later, you heard the own panting of your twin beside you. You stared at him incredulously, legs faltering a bit, “Neteyam, I told you to go left!”

“This is left!” 

“No, I’m right—! This is right, you skxawng!” 

Amidst your silly bickering, Jake cunningly captured Neteyam, grabbing him from the armpits and hoisting him up high into the air. You could hear your brother’s laughter growing louder as Jake blew raspberries on his stomach, pretend-eating him with loud munches– his toothless bites making the younger’s giddiness double in size. You shrieked and sprinted faster, making a beeline to a different direction. This monster’s more unmerciful than you thought! With a determined look, you stopped behind a tree. I have to save Neteyam!

“One down and another to go!” You heard your father roar again, your brother giggling as he trailed along his heavy steps. 

You threw a rock as hard as you can, shifting Jake’s attention to the noise, and before he knew it, you came running towards him, thick long vine in your hands as you lousily tied it around your father’s ankles. Neteyam shouts in victory, trying to tighten the bind. Jake could only stifle a laugh at the scene, trying not to soil the satisfaction that was evident in your smug smile. He dropped to the floor, “Oh no! You got me!”

“Toruk Makto my ass!” You got on top of him, slapping his chest down with your little hands. Jake shouts a ‘hey’ at your language, which you only sheepishly giggled in return. Neteyam parrots from behind, still holding onto his legs. 

“We’re Toruk Makto now!” 

The memory would have easily put a smile on his face– ease his heart even a little bit, but the severity of the situation pulled him back and immediately, he was back in marine-mode, hands gripping onto the gun tightly. The moment they saw distress among the group with the green gas enveloping where his children were, they made a move.

The dreamwalkers felt a searing burn in their nostrils as the dense gas engulfed the area, the pain shooting up their visions. Your captor had a vice-like grip on you, dragging your body with him as you watched the others scramble in distress. He tugged painfully on your hair, forcing you to hiss and jab your nails into any exposed skin you could claw on. A headache throbbed at the back of your skull like an incessant drumbeat; you needed to think fast. With a sprained ankle, you knew you couldn’t get far.

Before you could even muster enough breath to scream for help, an arrow hit the avatar straight in the nape and dropped to the ground dead. You limped backwards, seeking an escape route, when suddenly someone grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the rough tree bark. You body trembled, hitting whoever it was on their chest in an attempt to break free. But all efforts were futile as they held onto you tightly, shaking you vigorously.

“Sis, it’s me– you’re safe,” His hands traveled around your body to check for any serious wounds. The sound of his voice brought a sense of relief over you; your brother's caring demeanor enough to make you feel at ease and secure. Your face softens, “Are you hurt anywhere?” Neteyam anxiously asked, trying to get a hold of you.

“Ankle,” You exhaled, feeling the sharp pain shoot up again, “I sprained my ankle.” 

He looked around, making out a path to safety. When he manages to form a plan inside his mind, he carries you like a princess, arms securely around your waist and under your legs. Neteyam ran face-first into the battlefield, making sharp turns whenever necessary to evade any incoming bullets. With no bows or means of retaliation, you were both defenseless. You could only grab tighter as your heart hammered tightly on your throat.

“Na’vi!” Neteyam stops dead in his tracks, an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights. 

“Please, we just want to go home” Neteyam begged, his voice barely higher than a whisper. The light of the eclipse illuminated his features, and he instinctively pulled you closer to him as he took a few steps back. You could feel his exhaustion both physically and emotionally; a weariness that seemed so out of place on such a young soul. Everywhere around you was utter stillness- you couldn’t breathe, the tension in the air heavy and stifling.

“I’m sorry,” And before your brother could grab the dagger tucked to his loincloth, the avatar fired her gun towards you both as Neteyam thrashed in panic, throwing your beaten body to the side as he rolled off somewhere. The dreamwalker quickly towers over you and you could only close your eyes shut, waiting for cruel death. In a blink of an eye, her body drops dead and Lo’ak immediately rushes to your aid. 

Only then did you feel the searing pain in your leg, the sensation of a bullet wound as hot blood slowly oozed out. It was nauseating, the smell of iron and the redness of it. Your eyes widened in realization as you clung to your younger brother, “Neteyam! Did you find Neteyam?”

Lo'ak hurriedly hoisted you up and with sheer adrenaline, you limped to the other side, searching for your brother. Your eyes darted to his body, stiffly lying on the grass and breathing shallowly. You couldn't bear to look at the blood that stained his abdomen; it was a sight you wish to never see, ever.

“Oh, Neteyam,” You shakily put pressure on the bullet wound, only for him to violently grab both of your wrists and desperately claw at it. You could only scream aloud as the blood spilled out more and more as he writhed and struggled. “I know, I know, I know, I know– please, please just stay still.” Your words came out as a disgusting croaking slur, tears unable to keep themselves at bay. 

“__, I don’t want to die yet.” He cried out as you tried to keep your hold firm, “Father—father had asked me to stay, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay there and wait. I.. I don’t want to see his face when he realizes I didn’t listen-- that I failed him again. __ save me, please.”

He said hurriedly, breathing heavily every word. Save Neteyam, save Neteyam.

His jaw clenched violently, spit bubbling the corners of his mouth as he grabbed onto you tightly. The noises he let out had tugged on your every heart string, snapping it over and over. He struggled in your arms, pupils blown wide and teary. “Please great mother, not my brother, not like this– Lo’ak help me!” Your head sharply turned to his unmoving figure, eyes darted to you and Neteyam. You cradled him close, not minding the crimson cot coating your own body.

You were unable to think and you had your own wounds that needed to be tended to, but you couldn’t be bothered to put him down– to accept his already fleeting breath would soon be none. You kissed his temple, rocking his body. “I’m here, I’m here Neteyam.”

“I don’t want to die,” his eyes averted to the incoming figure behind you and he drew a harsher inhale. your father had pushed you aside to aid Neteyam, immediately checking for an exit wound. He was met with a loud cry, squirming uncontrollably from Jake’s sharp movements. When he saw blood gushing out the same on the back, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he let out a sob.

Jake put pressure on it nonetheless. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Sir, I’m sorry,” His words slurred together desperately, reducing to nothing but whimpers. Your lungs deny you of any more air as you watched him struggle— even in the brink of death, he had the need to apologize. Apologize for things that wasn’t even his fault, for things that was beyond his control. You kneeled just behind your father, gaze moving between Neteyam’s body and your bloodied palms. “I’m s-sorry, please don’t be mad.”

How he addressed Jake had only weakened his already beaten heart. “Save your breath, son, please.”

Everything seems to remain still for a minute, then came the shriek of your mother. You stayed there, almost lifeless yourself. You didn’t wanna see; didn’t wanna see how Neteyam’s body is limp under your father’s hold— how his eyes falls crestfallen and void of any emotion. Your siblings watch as Neytiri litters her first born with kisses, how she embraces every skin she can touch closer to her. “Not my son, eywa please.”

Eywa had granted him rest in its worst kind.

–

When he died, the same bullets went through you and it remained situated there, gnawing your insides and pounding it to mush, eating everything it can and rotting your entirety to an ugly void of a shell. It was getting heavier; his body soundly resting above the delicately woven cloth, carried by his mourning family. You could feel your feet sinking down the very soil you stepped on and you visibly faltered every move. 

His cold hand gripping tightly around your wrist, his blood drawn between the lines of your palms— your soul was left to relive that night in a loop, scream bellowing until nothing was let out but breathy weeps of what was left of you. 

It was bound to happen; death loomed and you dare played with it nonetheless. You should have known better than to let Lo'ak wander, let alone join him.

You stopped walking, changing everyone's solemn looks to a confused one. “Father, I can’t do it.” You whispered.

He remained tight-lipped, staring at you solidly that you could hardly decipher his expression. Jake was never one for emotions; it was as if he was programmed to tuck everything that made him feel under a gun's trigger– it was the soldier in him, finding it easier to be calm with a weapon nearby, but right now he was absolutely defenseless; stripped bare and vulnerable and he hated every moment of it; resented the fact that he failed protecting everyone, not just as clan leader, but as a father too. The latter weighed more than anything else. It dulled him to dysfunction and he could barely breathe– could barely recognize his daughter in front of him.

You took his stare differently, a cold-shoulder. Before Neytiri could approach your figure, you ran; away from the voices and guilt, away from him. Neteyam’s blood burns brightly on your very hands and you’ve swallowed down the blame, forever residing within you. 

You buried something so alive and you feared it would never let you rest.

☆ mauve here! i now introduce a new series of mine that i am so excited to work on. (i know i said i'd be inactive, but i couldn't help but finish this one draft) neteyam's dying scene is heavily inspired by the game, the last of us! this feels rushed, but i needed an opening to start the series so rest assured, there would be lengthier pieces after. criticisms are welcome. feel free to point out any mistakes. mauve out >:]

Tags: @aonungsmate ♡

© avatarkv, do not repost.

[tightjeansjavi]

My Dearest,

A/N: so, while I was in Galena for my girls trip this weekend…my friend and I went into a bookstore and that’s where the inspiration struck! Ulysses Grant wrote letters to his wife (My Dearest Julia) from June 4th, 1844 to February 2, 1854. Of course I immediately had to throw Joel into the narrative, with a twist ;) please have your tissue boxes at the ready for this one and remember, fiction can’t hurt you! Also, big thank you and kisses to @beardedjoel for sobbing along with me while I wrote these series of letters 💘 P.S I know California wasn’t founded as a state until 1850…but let’s just pretend!

~word count: 1.9k~

Summary: a series of letters written by Joel Miller, a hopeless romantic yearning for your embrace once more.

Pairing | forbidden love!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: angst, allusion to smut, infertility, pining, hopeless romantic, unrequited love, forbidden love, major character death, alcoholism, death by alcohol poisoning, yearning, no age gap, mentions of social status, somewhat historically accurate language, no happy ending, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is my dearest, +18 minors dni! (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealously drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel.

-

July 13, 1844

My Dearest,

California is beautiful and my eyes are seeing the ocean for the very first time. I wonder what your view is? Last I heard you were moving to New York. Is it true? Please tell me it’s a lie. I would be naive to think that what is written in the papers to be false, but my heart is still holding on. Are you moving to New York because of me? I’m so sorry, my dearest. We should have been more careful. I can still smell your perfume, and feel the ghost of your lips on my skin. I am no poet, but if I was, perhaps your father would think highly of me.

I dream of you even in the daytime.

Please write to me, dearest.

J.M

-

September, 7th 1844

My Dearest,

There is a sweetness on my tongue that I have not felt the indulgence of for many moons and suns. I worried that I would never hear from you again, that I would become another distant memory fading into ash. I forbade this from happening, dearest. We are thousands of miles apart, and all I wish for is to see your face once more. Do you wish for the same, dearest? To see your Joel, to feel his warm embrace? Please don’t forget me, please. I know in your heart that you still feel for me. California calls your name as it did mine. Come back to me, dearest.

Yours most affectionately,

Joel

-

January 12th, 1845

My Dearest,

I have not heard from you in months and my heart cannot bare it any longer. Why do you not write to me, dearest? I’ve enrolled in classes, maybe I’ll even become the next great American author! Would your father accept me then, if I was no longer a penniless man? I think he would. Your father is a very simple man in those regards. If only my status in society didn’t matter. Do you lie awake in bed and think of me, dearest? Does your dream state float off to the thoughts of your Joel? My dearest, my love for you has not changed, only grown stronger. Has yours for me felt all the same?

Joel

-

July 11th, 1845

My Dearest,

I write to you with a heavy heart and an anger that has never once possessed me. Please tell me it isn’t true. That you have fallen for another, the rich banker's son? It cannot be true. The papers lie, dearest. Your heart belongs to me, does it not? It must. You promised! You said that no matter what happened, no matter the consequences, we would end up together. You spoke those words so sweetly upon my ear when I laid beneath your sheets, dearest. Back in Texas, in your abandoned home, the stench of me still lingers. When you receive this letter, close your eyes and imagine me there with you, wherever that may be. I’ll come to New York, I swear it. I’ll come find you!

Please, write to me soon, dearest. Do not allow this to be the end of our story, I beg of you.

Yours always,

Joel Miller

-

October, 1845

My Dearest,

This morning I write to you about the thoughts of reminiscing on our love. Something so sweet, fresh, ripened, but not yet spoiled. Do you remember the night we first met? We were just children then. All bright eyed and filled with curiosity. I remember the bows in your braided hair, your mother scolding you for them, slapping your cheek and yanking them from your braids. You wept with your face buried in your hands, and I comforted you. Your mother taught you how to curtsey, how to engage in small talk and forced you to wear those unbreathable garments that you hated so. I showed you how to run, to make mud pies and swim in the river. Do you remember the night of our first kiss? The first time our lips touched and my life held a meaning again? The foul mouthed, stable hand boy winning the affections of a girl such as you. If I bring my fingers to my lips now, I can feel your kiss there, too. I moved back to Texas, dearest. I wanted to feel closer to you. Write to me soon, and in your letter tell me that you wish for me to come to New York to be with you.

I am inconsolable without your presence at my side.

Yours devotedly,

Joel Miller

P.S. Every night I pray to the moon and stars that we will be in one another’s embrace very soon. I have never been a religious man by any means, but I find myself praying for you, my dearest.

-

March 29th, 1846

My Dearest,

It is spring once again, and everything is in bloom! A new family has moved into your abandoned home, and I am back to my roots. I have given up my dreams to be an author, but I write to you, still. I missed being around the horses more than you could possibly imagine. There’s a piece missing here, and that piece is you. The new family I work for has a daughter around your age. She’s pretty, beautiful even, but she’s not you, my dearest. She’ll never be you. Her hair isn’t the right length, her eyes the wrong shade, her laugh isn’t yours, her mannerisms are all wrong. She yearns for my affections, but my heart belongs to another. I will not commit adultery against you, my sweet. Even in my loneliest hours, I will not give into my sins against you. She would make a fine wife, and her parents are unlike your own, but she will never be you, and she will never possess my heart.

I yearn for you.

Your Joel

-

July 2nd, 1846

My Dearest,

I write to you with sweat dripping down my brow. I cannot sleep, the Texas heat has played a cruel trick upon my mind. I awoke to your voice, whispering my name through the billowing curtains. I taste your sweet kiss and the oncoming summer storm, but you are not here. Am I going insane? I fear that I am. What is the weather like in New York? Write to me soon, I beg of you.

Joel Miller

-

September 23rd, 1847

My Dearest,

I am facing my loneliest night yet, and I picture you laying beside me beneath my sheets. I have scrapped up enough money to finally buy you a ring! Isn’t that the most wonderful news? Tomorrow evening, after supper, I will head into town to the jewelers and buy you a ring that shines more brilliantly than the heavens above. You’ll wait for me, won’t you? Promise me that you will.

With love,

Your Joel

-

January, 1848

My Dearest,

Today is the day where I wish I never awoke. I wish to stay in a sweet slumber where my dreams are filled with you. You cannot marry him, please. Tell your father that you don’t accept the banker's son’s hand in marriage! He will never know you as I do, my dearest. He will never satisfy you the way that I can. He will turn his nose up at your politics, your drinking habits, your antics and wildness. But I love you as so. Come back to me, runaway with me. I can give you so much happiness if you only let me. How will your husband to-be react when he finds that you cannot bear him children? When the marriage is to be consummated, and he strips you of your skirts and touches you where only I have been, how will he feel? I worry for you, my dearest. I remember the night that we first became one. Do you still think of the way I moved in you? I still feel the phantom crescents of your nails in my back. I wish the marks left there were permanent, so I would always have a piece of you with me. Tell me that you remember the way that my kisses feel, my taste on your tongue, my voice, my body moving with yours. There was a time when you wanted to bear my children, and begged me to fill your womb with my seed. We waited and waited, but your womb never swelled with life no matter how many times we tried. You assumed my feelings for you would sour, but they only grew.

If you accept the banker's son's hand in marriage, I wish to never see the sunrise again.

Joel Miller

-

May 7th, 1848

My Dearest,

I have never wept more than I have this morn. I shredded the papers, I pounded my fists into the earth and spooked every horse in the stable. Even the heavens weep with me, my dearest. Can I even call you that any longer? You wear his ring upon your finger, awake beneath his sheets, smelling of him. I’m sorry, my dearest. I’m sorry I could never be enough for you. I have tried so hard, and have continued to fail. My heart aches, and I wish I could rip it from my chest and stab it till all movement ceases. I wish to not feel any longer. I have lost all hope, and I fear that my attempts to hear from you have been fruitless. My devoted letters are out there, somewhere. Or perhaps you have collected them. Perhaps you did not awaken in his sheets. Perhaps you are on your way back to me. I’ll wait for you, my dearest.

Undoubtedly yours,

Joel Miller

-

June 4th, 1848

My Dearest,

In my loneliest hour, I write to you. If you ever receive this letter, do not weep for me. You and I were cut from a separate cloth since birth. I was not born into wealth. I was not fed from silver spoons. My clothes are tattered, the soles of my boots are worn down. All I have to my name is my penmanship and my memories of you. Think of me sweetly, will you? I wish you only happiness and love. I have turned into a drunk, my dearest. Alcohol soothes my mind, woes, and ailments. I hear your voice so vividly when I am in this state. You’re here beside me now, watching as I write my final letter. I can reach out and touch your cheek, soft, supple. You smell of saccharine honey and lavender fields. Your laugh is my favorite tune, and I can hear it now. Sing me a lullaby, my darling as I close my eyes and dream of you for a final time. If another universe exists, I hope I am rich. I hope I am the wealthiest man who is adored by your mother and father. I hope that on the night we meet again, I present you with a ring forged from my heart, a piece of me that has forever belonged to you. I hope I am fed from a silver spoon, dressed in the finest garments, attend every gala with you on my arm as my lady, my wife, my reason to live. I hope to bless you with as many children as you so desire. I have always loved you, my dearest, from the moment we met, I have been yours.

Farewell,

Your Joel.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💖

Follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

[theemissuniverse]

NOOB SAIBOT AND GODDESS!READER INTERACTIONS

SUMMARY : You are the daughter of Quan Chi. You possess great black magic and are half human/half demon. You are also the Goddess of the dead. Noob Saibot is into you

WARNINGS : None really. Just slightly suggestive

(Y/N) VS (Y/N)

#1 (Y/N) : Does dark Bi-Han also yearn for you in your timeline?

#2 (Y/N) : Yearn? He is my consort

#1 (Y/N) : Well there’s something

#2 (Y/N) : Noob is very fond of us

#1 (Y/N) : More like obsessed

#2 (Y/N) : I like it

NOOB SAIBOT VS NOOB SAIBOT

#1 NOOB SAIBOT : I like to serve my Goddess

#2 NOOB SAIBOT : As do I

#1 NOOB SAIBOT : We will serve her well

#1 NOOB SAIBOT : (Y/N) is mine

#2 NOOB SAIBOT : You are too weak for my Goddess

#1 NOOB SAIBOT : I will show you who’s weak

NOOB SAIBOT VS (Y/N)

NOOB SAIBOT : Your father resurrected me

(Y/N) : That he did

NOOB SAIBOT : Then I am indebted to you

(Y/N) : I like this version of you better

NOOB SAIBOT : We also like it too

(Y/N) : Okay, don’t go full Ermac on me

NOOB SAIBOT : The darkness yearns for your touch

(Y/N) : What makes you believe you are worthy of it?

NOOB SAIBOT : I will prove it to you

NOOB SAIBOT : I live to serve you, my Goddess

(Y/N) : Serve me if you must but I am not looking for worship

NOOB SAIBOT : What are you looking for then?

NOOB SAIBOT : Quan Chi was weak. He could not handle the enemies that came at him

(Y/N) : You don’t believe me to be as weak?

NOOB SAIBOT : Not at all, my Goddess

NOOB SAIBOT : You entertain Johnny Cage’s advances?

(Y/N) : Is that a problem?

NOOB SAIBOT : I will bring him down under

(Y/N) : I am looking for a man that can please me

NOOB SAIBOT : I can please you in all ways

(Y/N) : Oh?

NOOB SAIBOT : You did not like me in my last life?

(Y/N) : Not that. You just didn’t have enough darkness

NOOB SAIBOT : So I am perfect for you now?

(Y/N) : You are still Bi-Han at the end of the day

NOOB SAIBOT : The man you think of is dead

(Y/N) : Don’t look so dead to me

(Y/N) : What do you desire, shadow?

NOOB SAIBOT : To be your consort

(Y/N) : Hmm. I will think of it

NOOB SAIBOT : I would do anything for you, my Goddess

(Y/N) : Anything?

NOOB SAIBOT : Anything.

NOOB SAIBOT : No other man is worthy of you

(Y/N) : And what makes you say that?

NOOB SAIBOT : I can give you all you desire. They cannot

NOOB SAIBOT : Shang Tsung was weak. He could not handle a woman like you

(Y/N) : And you can?

NOOB SAIBOT : More than you know

NOOB SAIBOT : Death seeks your embrace

(Y/N) : And you shall have it

NOOB SAIBOT : That is all I desire

NOOB SAIBOT : The only one I yearn for is you

(Y/N) : Prove it

NOOB SAIBOT : I will, my goddess

(Y/N) : Your brother is getting in the way of our plans

NOOB SAIBOT : I will deal with him

(Y/N) : Make sure it’s a slow and painful death

(Y/N) : Scorpion has disrespected me for the last time

NOOB SAIBOT : He will not live to see another day

(Y/N) : Thank you, my one and only

(Y/N) : I have never had a being worship me

NOOB SAIBOT : I will do anything for you

(Y/N) : Maybe you are worthy

(Y/N) : You wish to be my consort?

NOOB SAIBOT : That is all I ask of you

(Y/N) : Your wish is granted

NOOB SAIBOT : I have never seen anything more beautiful

(Y/N) : Are you sure, my shadow?

NOOB SAIBOT : Positive

(Y/N) : Shao Kahn believes you are my concubine

NOOB SAIBOT : I would not mind that

(Y/N) : *laughs* I didn’t know you could be so dirty

JOHNNY CAGE VS (Y/N)

JOHNNY CAGE : Still banging scary shadow dude

(Y/N) : Why are you so concerned?

JOHNNY CAGE : Just trying to see if I could have a shot

JOHNNY CAGE VS NOOB SAIBOT

NOOB SAIBOT : You are not worthy of my goddess

JOHNNY CAGE : And what makes you qualified?

NOOB SAIBOT : I am the darkness she yearns for

SHANG TSUNG VS (Y/N)

SHANG TSUNG ; You’ve downgraded

(Y/N) : I will have my love bring you into death

SHANG TSUNG : I’d like to see him try

SHANG TSUNG VS NOOB SAIBOT

NOOB SAIBOT : You left (Y/N) when she was at her lowest

SHANG TSUNG : Go back to death, shadow

NOOB SAIBOT : For that - your soul will be mine

SUB-ZERO VS (Y/N)

SUB-ZERO : My brother is fond of you

(Y/N) : He is not your brother anymore

SUB-ZERO ; To get to him, I must get to you

SUB-ZERO VS NOOB SAIBOT

NOOB SAIBOT : You capture my goddess?

SUB-ZERO : Come get her

NOOB SAIBOT ; You have made a grave mistake

SCORPION VS (Y/N)

(Y/N) : You killed my lover

SCORPION : I am not the Scorpion you seek

(Y/N) : That’s what they all say

SCORPION VS NOOB SAIBOT

NOOB SAIBOT : My goddess will be pleased to have your soul

SCORPION : She will not get me

NOOB SAIBOT : Think again

[rosewine-5]

𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (2)

Billy the Kid x b!woc reader

Being the pastor’s daughter meant you had to always be on your best behavior, never stepping off the right path, walking the straight & narrow path, and her eyes towards heaven. That was until a certain outlaw rode into your life, and taught you sometimes it okay to have a taste of hell with a little bit of heaven.

A.N: reader’s last name is Bennett.

A.N2: Thank you all for the likes & feedback from part one, here’s part 2!

UPDATE: Part 3 is here!

Word count: 1.1k

divider by saradika

Over the next few days, you tried to ignore Billy like the plague. He had a different idea, he would follow you like a lost puppy, never close enough for you to see, but you knew his eyes were on you. Going into town: you knew he was there. Working at the bar: you knew he was there. Even in church: you knew he was there and it drove you crazy. You all were taught to not look behind you during service, eyes forward and towards the pulpit at all times.

You were yearning to catch a glimpse of him, just to know you weren't crazy. However, you couldn't risk getting scolded by your mother for improper behavior. So you sat still, the burning of his eyes on you nagging you the entire time. As you waited for your father to finish saying goodbyes, you heard a voice behind you. “I should’ve known the pastor's daughter could clean up so well,” Billy said, looking you up and down.

“I didn't know the cowboy knew the Lord’s word either.” you responded, looking at him. “We all have our secrets, darling.” He said, a smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth. “So what are yours, Billy?” you asked, leaning on the wall and looking up at him. “I'm not telling mine if you're not telling yours, Ms. Bennet.” He grinned. You peeped inside the door and saw your father still in the middle of a conversation, so you had time. “Alright, I'll let you ask 3 questions about me, and I'll do the same with you, deal?”

“Deal. First question: Have you ever had a drink, and I ain't talking about wine?" Billy asked, to which you nodded in response. "Never. Have you ever taken someone's life?" you asked, noticing a slight twitch in his eyes. "Yes, I killed men before.” he replied, making your blood freeze. You felt your eyes go wide. “Let me guess, it goes against one of the Lord’s rules?” Billy asked, a tone of sarcasm laced in his voice. “Yes, a pretty big one!” You shouted, making him chuckle.

“Don't worry sweet thing, I'd never kill something so pure and innocent as you.” He smirked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I'm not so innocent, murderer.” You snapped, the grin never leaving his face. “Oh really? So you’ve held a gun before?“ Billy asked, raising his eyebrows. “Of course I have!” you answered, making him gasp loudly and putting his hand over his heart in a mocking manner. “I thought you were a proper lady Ms. Bennett! How dare you touch a gun!” he said, adding an exasperated gasp to his sentence, making you laugh.

“Shut your mouth! I know how to use one, I've just never shot one.” You said, seeing him side-eye you. “You poor soul.” you heard him whisper to himself. “So, why do you bother me so much?” you asked, giving him a sharp and challenging look. “You intrigue me, little Bennett. I don't get how you've had such a protected lifestyle.” be answered. “Having a stable life isn't protected.” You said, shrugging. “Yeah? Because I've seen those brothers of yours in the bar, and they have the same rules you do I assume.” said, making you nod.

“Bull. Shit.” he said, chuckling. “You don't even see how deprived you've been of fun because you’ve had your eyes set on heaven the whole time.” Billy said, and then you saw his smile change, his eyes darkening. “Oh. You poor little thing. You don't know what you're missing out on.” He said, making you look at the ground in embarrassment. “Eyes are up here, little girl.” he said, tilting your head up. “So then answer my last question. What do you want from me?” you asked, annoyance laced through your words.

He smirked and then grasped your necklace and tugged it slightly so you were almost nose to nose. “I thought I made my thoughts clear from the start, honey. I want you.” He said, hearing the desire in his tone.

You stepped away from him like he was a raging fire, and yet you stayed close enough to still be within arms reach. You both didn't say a word, you didn't need to. His word rang in your ears. This man was a walking sin, the devil in the form of a man: a very handsome man. His eyes glued to your face, waiting for your next move.

Just like that the word faded away. You were no longer outside the church, you were in your own little paradise. The one that surrounded you when you got lost in his eyes. Your dress softly flows in the wind, yet you don't feel the chill of the breeze. You didn't feel anything actually.

“I want you”

He didn't know how those 3 words and 8 letters affected you, but then again, maybe he did. Did he want to make you get flustered like this? Possibly. Would you slap him if no one else was around? Probably.

At the same time did you think about what he was saying? Definitely!

Before you could give him an answer, he spoke up first. “Don't you wanna live, honey?” Billy asked, giving you that same signature smile. Fuck him and his cowboy casanova ways, God excuse my French. As a matter of fact, fuck his pretty smile. Fuck his beautiful eyes. Fuck his large strong hands and make you lose your words with a simple touch. And fuck yourself for crushing on him.

Before you could answer him, you were happy to see your father walk out with your mother and father in tow. “Thank you Jesus!” you thought. “Ah! Billy. I see you've met my daughter.” He said, putting a firm hand on your shoulder. “Lovely daughter you've raised, sir. She was just helping me understand the message today, wise girl you have right there.” he said, giving you a kinder smile, but the true intentions remained a secret, one only you two knew.

“Well if you ever want to study the word more, she’ll talk to you about it. Won't you, dove?” he asked, the stern look in his eyes daring you to say “no” along with his palm on your shoulder. “Bringing a man closer to God and Jesus gets you to heaven as you always say.” You said with a nervous smile. Billy, who was now leaning on the wall, gave a knowing look in his eyes. “Closer to heaven” you say, Ms. Bennett?” He asked, a playful edge showing through his words. “Amen to that.” he said, taking your hand and kissing it softly. Before you walked away with your family, he whispered to you one last time. “Now I have a veiled excuse to have you to myself.” And with one last smirk, he walked away from you, leaving you shaken.

Your dad had no idea what he had just done. For a man of God, he seemed to be blind to the works of the blue-eyed devil in front of him.

The man who preached on saving souls from temptation just presented the blue eyed silver tongued serpent with his new Eve.

And the apples were looking riper by the minute.

[aemondsladywife]

His Lady Wife : Alternative Ending I

aemond x reader

an alternative ending to 'His Lady Wife' where y/n survives and aemond suffers the consequences of his actions.

a/n: its 3am in the uk rn and i've made you guys wait too long! i am extremely sorry this took so long to write!! i won't even lie, its not the best, i really struggled w these alternative endings, feedback and comments are appreciated as always, my inboxes are always open for requests!! also if you want to be on my permanent aemond taglist, please comment! btw there are more alt endings on its way!

genre: angst

after hours and hours of intense labour, you finally gave birth to a premature baby girl. you were exhausted, but seeing your precious baby girl gave you all the strength you needed in the world. as you cradled your tiny, precious baby girl, your 'husband' came in, with guilt etched all over his face.

"my wife I-"

his eyes fell to his tiny baby girl. his eyes began to water as he spoke,

"is that my daughter?"

you looked at him with cold eyes, your blood was boiling as you placed a protective arm around the daughter you had just birthed.

"no she is no mans daughter. she is mine. only mine. no fucking guards and definetely not yours. she has your white hair and violet eyes but it was not you who carried her 8 months in a chamber fit for a criminal. it wasn't you who had to endure severe pains for the past 8 moons. it wasn't you who pushed and pushed for 9 hours straight. that was all me. you left her mother to die and now you expect to be her father? if you want a baby so bad carry on fucking that whore of yours, you're nearly there!"

aemond looked at his wife with wide eyes. he didn't know what to say or where to begin. her anger was justified. he was about to step closer and speak to his wife when he was interrupted by a maester.

"my prince, may I speak to you in private."

aemond nodded to the maester, with tears of guilt and pain in his eyes as he walked out of the room with him.

"my prince. the princesses labours were... horrific, to put it mildly. as she was not given any support during her tulmtuous pregnancy, her labors were worse than we had ever seen, it is a miracle that she and the babe are alive. it was a whole moon early, she lost litres of blood, the baby was upside down and had to be physically twisted and even now, both mother and wife are severly unwell. please do not take offence my prince... but it is best you give the princess and the babe their space. any further stress could even cause a heart attack."

aemond felt sick to his stomach as he realised what he had put his wife and daughter through, all because he let his self doubt and insecurities get the better of him.

he nods and complies to the maesters words. what else could he do other than wait? he caused enough damage as it is.

weeks go by and aemond can't even catch a glimpse of either his wife or daughter. his heart is overtaken by remorse and longing. he knew this was all his fault, but he desperately wanted to see his baby and his wife who he treated so terribly.

aemond took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his estranged wife's chambers, he has flowers and a dragon plushie in his hands.

you open the door, with your daughter in your arms, not expecting to see aemond at the door.

"husband."

aemond has a sorrowful, sad smile on his face.

"my wife, i know my actions are much beyond forgiveness, i will live the rest of my life in regret for my disgusting actions... but please, give me a chance to redeem myself. i will do anything and everything my love. i have not even held my own daughter. please. i beg you, my lady. let me hold my little girl."

aemond begged you with tears in his eyes. he was desperate. he looked at his tiny daughter in your arms and yearned to hold her. all he wanted was to be a good father and husband.

"i remember feeling this desperate too..."

your words give him a slight bit of hope. he hopes that you pity him enough to give him a chance.

"i felt this desperate when i begged of you to let me go to my fathers and recieve treatment for my pregnancy complications. and what did you do. refuse. and what did i have to do? suffer in silence. now you will do the same."

aemond's entire being became filled with guilt and resentment towards himself, he would do anything for a moment with his wife and daughter.

"please my wife. please. i have not been able to eat or sleep knowing the pain i caused you and our daughter."

you looked back at him with no sympathy and chuckled when you spoke.

"i remember that feeling all too well. i felt the same when you restricted me to a chamber with mouldy walls and food that wouldn't feed a child let alone a woman carrying a child herself"

you were shutting the door on him when he stopped it. he was so desperate, he was begging you with tears in his eyes.

"please. my lady. my lady wife i know my apologies are worthless but at least give this to my sweet girl."

he holds out the little stuffed dragon toy, praying to the gods you would accept it.

"we do not accept gifts from strangers. especially ones who once had ill intentions for us."

with that, you shut the door and left aemond in a state of great despair. in one swoop, he lost his wife and only child. his dreams of being a father had been crushed by his own hand.

taglist: @fultimefangirl @hc-geralt-23 @whatsonthemirror @69cocktimusprime @immyowndefender @burntoutpetals @uselessbutinteresting @bibli0thecary @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @bellameshipper @graykageyama @krispold @malfoytargaryen @imnotyourbcbe @poisonedsultana @caramelcandescence @azaleapotterblack @oh-thats-cute

*tags w a line through didn't work!

[idkyetxoxo]

Criston Cole - The Princess and the Protector

Summary - Embarking on a daring flight, only to suffer a painful injury with her dragon, she grapples with her wound and the threat of her father's wrath, her loyal knight, Ser Criston, steps in to help, igniting a simmering tension between responsibility and yearning.

Pairing - Criston Cole x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Violence (injury?)

Word count - 2312

Masterlist for Criston • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Princess, I feel honoured that you have chosen me to defend your honour and serve at your pleasure," Criston said, his voice filled with reverence. 

I hummed in response, a sweet smile playing on my lips as he gazed up at me like an eager pup seeking its owner's approval.

"The honour is mine, Ser Criston," I replied, shooting him a playful wink before stepping off my seat and heading toward my chambers. 

The soft rustle of silk followed me, the air tinged with anticipation.

As I walked away, my friend Lyanna, ever curious, followed me with a question. "Why have you chosen him?"

"He seemed the most noble," I replied, noting her sceptical expression. "And he's easy on the eyes," I added with a nonchalant shrug, earning a disapproving glance from her. 

I rolled my eyes in response, unbothered by her judgment.

Entering my chambers, I began changing into my dragon-riding attire with the help of my handmaidens. The delicate fabric glimmered as I slipped into it, each stitch infused with the essence of adventure. 

Lyanna watched me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"I do not understand how you enjoy riding those beasts so high in the sky," she remarked, helping me with one of my gloves, her fingers nimble but hesitant.

"You won't know until you try it," I said with a grin. The mere thought seemed to unsettle her, she shuddered visibly, shaking her head as if to dispel the idea from her mind.

"You're far too reckless for your own good," she muttered, brushing a stray hair behind my ear.

I chuckled and leaned closer, my eyes twinkling. "Ah, but it's my recklessness that makes me so loveable, don't you think?"

"The Realm's Siren, indeed," she mused, her voice affectionate.

I swatted her arm, a gesture meant to convey that her teasing was received in good spirit. I knew well that her mockery was not harsh but a form of endearment. 

Lyanna was the one person who dared to strip away the gilded layers of royalty, speaking to me with the raw honesty that only true friendship could afford.

Shortly after, she left the room, leaving me to my preparations. I took a few moments to compose myself, inhaling deeply to steady the flutter of excitement in my chest before stepping out.

As expected, Criston was stationed outside, ever dutiful. He turned to walk in step with me as I made my way down to the dragon pits.

"Already put to work, Ser Criston?" I asked, a hint of amusement dancing in my tone.

"Of course, Princess," he replied, clearing his throat, his posture rigid with formality.

"I'm going for a ride on my dragon," I announced as we entered the dragon pit. The sky was growing dim, the sun beginning its descent, painting the horizon in hues of orange and purple.

"It's nearing nightfall," Criston observed, concern evident in his tone, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Already worrying, are we, Ser Criston?" I teased, a smile curling my lips, the thrill of the impending flight sparking mischief in my eyes.

He cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable. "I just mean, is this the safest option, Princess?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine care.

"Safety is not always the most exciting choice, Ser Criston," I replied, a playful glint in my eye.

"And what of your safety?" he pressed, his voice lowering, revealing the protectiveness he felt.

I shrugged, unfazed. "Silverwing is the best girl, I trust her with my life," I declared confidently as I approached my majestic, silvery dragon. Her scales shimmered in the fading light, casting an ethereal glow around her. 

She looked regal and fierce, her wings folded elegantly against her sides.

With practised ease, I mounted her, feeling the familiar strength and grace beneath me. As we ascended into the twilight, the sky darkened slowly, stars piercing through the inky blackness one by one.

Criston watched from below, his eyes wide with awe and a hint of concern, his figure dwindling against the sprawling landscape.

The wind whipped around us as we soared higher, leaving the ground far below, shrouded in the fading light. The twilight deepened, and a thick fog began to roll in, swirling and obscuring our vision.

I squinted, trying to see through the growing gloom, but the landscape below was quickly becoming a blurred tapestry of shadows. Urging Silverwing to descend slightly, I hoped to find clearer skies lower down.

As we descended, the fog thickened ominously, cloaking even the once-familiar terrain in an eerie haze. I steered Silverwing cautiously, my heart pounding with unease as my judgment was clouded by the lack of visibility.

Suddenly, without warning, we flew too low and found ourselves upon a dense thicket of trees. Their gnarled branches reached out like dark, skeletal hands, threatening to ensnare us.

Before I could react, Silverwing reacted instinctively, her massive wingspan tilting to avoid a particularly large branch. We veered sharply, but a smaller branch lashed out, striking my side with a searing pain that stole my breath.

I gasped, the agony radiating through me as I instinctively clutched at the wound, feeling warm blood seeping between my fingers. Silverwing roared in surprise and fear, her flight becoming erratic as she sought to regain stability.

Struggling to stay focused through the haze of pain, I whispered through gritted teeth, "Lykirī." Calm.

"Sōvēs, hepās, vēzot!" Silverwing responded to my voice, her instincts kicking in as she navigated us through the dense forest, flying with renewed determination. Fly, climb, upward!

The journey back was slow and arduous, each movement sending waves of pain through my side. Yet I clung to Silverwing, trusting her instincts as she guided us through the labyrinth of branches and foliage and headed towards the safety of our haven.

When we landed, Ser Criston was there to greet us. His expression turned from relief to alarm as he saw the blood staining my side. Without a word, he sprang into action, helping me dismount and steadying me as my legs wobbled beneath me.

"What happened, Princess?" Criston's voice cracked with barely contained panic. His eyes darted from the bloodstained side of my riding attire to my face,

"I steered us into the trees, I couldn't see," I admitted, wincing as the pain flared again, sharp and biting. "A branch punctured my side."

"We need to call for a maester," Criston insisted, his voice thick with worry. "You need proper treatment, Princess."

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head with resolve. "If we call for a maester, my father will discover what has happened. The king must not know."

Criston frowned, torn between his duty to protect me and my desperate plea. "But you're hurt..."

"I'll be fine," I insisted, though my voice wavered slightly, betraying the pain coursing through me. "Just assist me to my chambers."

With a reluctant nod, Criston supported me as we made our way to my chambers. Each step sent a jolt of pain through my side, but I focused on his presence beside me and his steadying grip.

I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling my gloves off with my mouth, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Criston stood opposite me, unsure of what to do with himself, his worry evident in the furrow of his brow.

"Can you fetch me water and a cloth? I do not think it is too deep," I said, trying to project confidence despite the throbbing ache. 

I unbuttoned my outer dress to lift my tunic, revealing the wound beneath. The gash on my side was angry and red, blood still trickling from it, an unwelcome reminder of my recklessness.

Criston moved quickly, bringing a basin of water and a clean cloth. He knelt beside me, dipping the cloth into the water and wringing it out. His hands were steady, but his eyes betrayed his anxiety, darting between the wound and my face.

"This might sting," he warned softly, his tone gentle as if he were afraid of causing me more pain.

I nodded, bracing myself as he gently dabbed at the wound. The cool water sent a shiver through me, contrasting sharply with the warmth of blood still oozing from the cut. Criston's touch was careful and tender, a soothing balm amidst the turmoil of my injury.

Despite the pain, I found an unexpected comfort in his presence. His focus was intense, his every movement deliberate as he cleaned the wound and pressed the cloth against it to stem the bleeding.

"You're doing well, Princess," he murmured, glancing up at me with a reassuring smile that felt like a warm embrace. "Just a little longer."

His calm demeanor helped to soothe my frayed nerves. As he worked, I watched him, noticing the strength in his hands and the concern etched deeply into his features. For a moment, the pain seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the growing warmth in my chest.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," I whispered, my voice barely audible, tinged with gratitude.

He looked up, our eyes locking in an unspoken understanding. For a brief moment, the world outside seemed to disappear; the chaos, the fog, the looming threat of discovery faded into the background. 

The air between us felt charged, electric, as if the space was woven with threads of something deeper.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a sudden knock on my chamber door shattered the moment. I was pulled from my trance, reality rushing back in like a cold wave.

"Princess! Is everything alright?" The voice belonged to Lyanna, my trusted friend, her tone laced with concern and curiosity.

As Lyanna's concerned voice echoed through the room, Criston's eyes widened in alarm, a fleeting glance of urgency passing between us. With practised swiftness, I moved to conceal my injury beneath my clothes.

Taking a deep breath, I summoned a composed facade, my voice steady as I gestured for Lyanna to enter. "Come in," I called, masking the turmoil that churned within.

The door swung open, revealing Lyanna, her gaze sweeping over Criston and me with a mixture of worry and curiosity. "I heard a commotion—is everything—"

"It's nothing," I interjected quickly, my words laced with forced cheerfulness. "Just a minor mishap while riding. I'm fine."

Lyanna's keen eyes narrowed slightly, her intuition honed by years of friendship. "You look pale, Princess. Perhaps you should rest?"

"No need for concern," I insisted, though the persistent ache in my side contradicted my reassurance. "I just need a moment to collect myself."

Criston stepped forward, his demeanour protective as he added, "I'll stay with her if that's alright."

Lyanna hesitated, clearly torn. "Very well," she finally conceded, her gaze lingering on us with unspoken questions before she retreated, closing the door softly behind her.

Alone again, the tension in the room was palpable, thick with unspoken words and the weight of shared secrets. I exhaled slowly, feeling the rush of adrenaline begin to ebb, leaving behind a deep weariness that matched the dull throb in my side.

"That was close," I murmured, meeting Criston's gaze with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

He nodded solemnly, his expression serious. "You should have let me fetch the maester. This isn't just a scratch."

"And risk my father's wrath?" I countered, my voice edged with frustration and fear. "I'd rather endure this pain than face his anger."

Criston sighed heavily, a hand running through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "You're as stubborn as ever, Princess."

A faint smile tugged at my lips, despite the discomfort pulsing through my side. "And you're as protective as any knight ought to be."

I paused, the weight of the moment settling between us, before continuing with a pained but genuine smile. "I chose well, didn't I? To have someone like you by my side... I'm quite fortunate."

Criston's expression softened, his frustration melting away as he looked at me with a sincerity that was as comforting as it was disarming. 

"No, Princess," he said quietly, his voice steady and filled with warmth. "It is I who am lucky. Serving you is an honour I hold above all else."

His smile was gentle, devoid of any pretence, and it reached his eyes in a way that made the room feel a little less cold, the pain a little more bearable.

Though concern still etched lines on his face. "Just promise me you'll take better care of yourself."

"I promise," I replied softly, my voice carrying the weight of our unspoken connection.

As the moment stretched between us, the air seemed charged with an undercurrent of tension and desire, emotions swirling beneath the surface like hidden currents in a deep sea. 

Criston's gaze held mine, the unspoken words hanging between us like a fragile thread, taut with unfulfilled longing.

Just as the silence threatened to stretch into something more profound, Criston spoke up, breaking the spell that had enveloped us. 

"Perhaps I should return to my post outside," he suggested reluctantly, his voice tinged with regret.

I nodded, though disappointment flickered in my eyes. I knew there was more to be said, more to explore in the depths of this shared moment.

"Yes, perhaps you should," I replied softly, my voice betraying a hint of longing that I couldn't quite suppress.

Criston hesitated, his gaze lingering on mine, a silent acknowledgement passing between us. He turned to leave, the weight of unspoken words heavy in the air.

As the door closed behind him, the room felt suddenly emptier, the warmth of his presence lingering like an echo. I sank back onto the bed, fingers absently tracing the edge of the cloth covering my wound, thoughts swirling with the intensity of the emotions stirred by our brief exchange.

Despite the pain in my side, my thoughts were consumed not by the injury, but by the complex tapestry of feelings that had begun to weave itself between Criston and me. 

The protective concern in his eyes, the unspoken tension that hung between us—these were threads that pulled at something deep within me, something I couldn't yet name but knew instinctively was significant.

A/n -  And that, is how you accidentally seduce your knight while trying not to bleed out.

[voydhund]

um. big TINAWDC spoilers.

LOTS of shit im gonna piss. this was made /w a ton of help from @neorails, and a friend!

Last warning, all spoilers!

. ~ △ ~ .

1: PASSWORDS

"AD ASTRA PER ASPRA" - Two images of pages written by Ford, with stickers and doodles on it from Mabel.

"AXOLOTL" - "YOU ASK ALOTL QUESTIONS"

"BABYBILL" - An image of, [you guessed it,] baby Bill in an ultrasound, with text that reads "CONGRATS, GUESS WHATS GROWING INSIDE YOU RIGHT NOW! SEE YOU IN 9 MONTHS PAPA!" [I giggled at this one way too hard]

"BILL" - opens Triangle - Wikipedia

"BLINDEYE" - An image of an eye test, with a code that reads

"BOYFRIEND" - An image of a book called "The Love Triangle" with audio of a woman reading it.

"CIA" - "YOUR WEBCAM IS ON. WE ARE WATCHING"

"CIPHERTOLOGY" - "CURIOUS?"

"CRYPTOGRAM CODEX" - Downloads a file with Bill's fonts.

"CONSPIRACY" - A video of someone talking about the site while it was on the page with Soos, stressing out trying to figure out the meaning. Me too.

"DEERTEETH" - "FOR YOU, KID"

"DOGE" - "LIFE PRIVILEDGES REVOKED. NOW RELEASING POISON GAS."

"DORITO" - Screamer jumpscare [i jumped]

"DUCKTECTIVE" - "DUCKTECTIVE STARS IN ''LOVE, QUACKTUALLY'' COMING TO: ''OI, ITS THE COCKNEY CHANNEL, INNIT?'' THIS FALL"

"EVENHISLIESARELIES" - An image of Ford's chess piece. Under it, Bill is talking with someone about Ford in the theraprism.

"FORDTRAMARINE" - An image of a file by Ford, talking about colours that cannot be perceived without 'Continued contact with extradimensional phenomena.'

"GIDEON" - opens either sweat resistant bolo ties on google, or audio of him 'singing' a song, before whispering 'I love you forever Mabel.' [I hate this place.] May also lead to "sweat resistant bolo ties." [I never got this, but Neo said it did]

"HECTORING" - A record of a song about Bill, and someone who fell for his tricks. Mentions to 'Leave him behind,' and the fucking "im a little different" shirt.

"HOTXOLOTL" - An image of Dimensional Authority Most Wanted, talking about Bill and the henchmaniacs. Red pen X's out Bill, writing "DEAD?" above him, circles the last seen and writes "WHERE DID THEY GO??"

"JUSTFITIN" - A video of a father and son playing a game called 'Perfection.'

"KINGSOFNEWJERSEY" - Downloads a file with Stan and Ford's secret code.

"LIES" - a REALLY long popup by Bill. At the bottom it reads "LIE UNTIL WHAT YOU WANT TO BE TRUE BECOMES TRUE. LIE UNTIL YOU CANT REMEMBER WHATS A LIE AND WHAT ISNT." and then in large, glitchy text, "LIE UNTIL YOU ARENT LIVING ANYMORE."

"LLIB" - Opens Jazzy Triangle Meets A Square Square (1969)

"LLIBREHPIC" - Opens Jazzy Triangle Meets A Square Square (1969)

"LOVE" - An image of a book called "The Love Triangle" with audio of a woman reading it.

"MABEL" - Stickers decorate your lab with a nice 'POP!' sound. after a few times of using it, text reads "LAB NOW FULLY MABELIZED."

"MCGUCKET" - Opens Cotton Eye Joe [🙂<3]

"MORALITY" - An image of a paper with 9 drawings of animals fighting or eating another animal. Text reads "CAN YOU FIND MORALITY IN THE NATURAL WORLD?"

"NAITSUAF" - An image of an article about selling your soul [For FUN and PROFIT!] written by Bill.

"NOTHING" - "SOMETHING"

"PAPERJAM" - An image of Tyrone, text reading "Here, he's your problem now! Just keep this guy from liquids!" under it.

"PINATA" - A video of someone whacking a Bill pinata while it protests

"PINES" - "A GOOD FAMILY TREE"

"ROMANCE" - An image of a book called "The Love Triangle" with audio of a woman reading it.

"SCIENTOLOGY" - "SUPPRESSIVE PERSON DETECTED"

"SHAVEYOURGRANDMA" - An image of a chapter of a book talking about the human life cycle, written by Bill. [The children yearn for the mines.]

"SIXER" - An image of a case report on Ford talking about his extra finger. There appears to be a word written under "Placebo" in small text. Also notably reads "If i could kidnap him and bring him to our secret cloning lab" obscured by a black marking.

"SOMETHING" - "NOTHING"

"SORRY" - An image of McGucket and Ford in collage(?). Ford is covered in sticky notes. [☹️]

"SOOS" - An image of a really long note from Soos, talking about Bill and his experiences as The New Mr. Mystery. Lots of cute doodles.

"SPOOKEMUPS" - An image of a book titled 'SPOOKEMUPS: The Book Of Bill" written by B. Cipher, with audio of a man reading it. It's about a boy getting scared by things and assuming it's Bill.

"STAN" - opens one of seven ebay pages that lead to Brass Knuckles, Colonel Sanders Tie, Shriner Fez, Male Girdle, 8-Ball Cane, Dogs Playing Poker, Gold Chains For Old Men. After going through all of them, the WHEEL! OF! SHAME! made by Bill appears, exposing some random secrets and shames. The last option reads "HOW HE BEAT ME," and when pressed, a note reads "He didn't! IM STILL HERE, SUCKER!"

"TOURISTTRAP" - An image of a page of a pamphlet, talking about 'The Caves Of Mystery.'

"TYRONE" - An image of Tyrone, text reading "Here, he's your problem now! Just keep this guy from liquids!" under it.

"VALLIS CINERIS" - A video of Baby Bill with his parents, only silhouettes of static. a text to speech says "Why did you do it?" three times.

"WADDLES" - Opens Pig Placement Network

"WEIRD" - A video of Alex(?) trapped in the screen, shouting at Bill to let him out.

"WEIRDMAGEDDON" - An image of a newspaper titled 'THE GRAVITY FALLS GOSSIPER,' with articles about how absolutely nothing happened. Never mind all that!

"WENDY" - An image of a note from Wendy that reads "Whatuppp cursed book! I've got a totally legit way to ward off evil triangles, and I wrote it in the bottom right corner of the book. It's totally worth it, I promise! Stay cool dork!"

"WHOAREYOU" - "I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION"

"XYLER" -

. ~ △ ~ .

2: CLICKABLES

The golden tooth of the skull:

The Book Of Bill:

The Bill on the dagger in the book:

The 'McGUCKET LABS' on the top of the computer:

The eye in the bottle:

. ~ △ ~ .

3: CODES

this segment is a little iffy,

On page two of The Book Of Bill clickable

Solved: uh. maybe. check my blog?

During lightning strikes:

Solved: Vallis Cineris. It's a password!

The colours on the blindeye eye test probably arent codes, because they read "euclmriannrepttgccvisignnsuwepvisidnn." you can try though. ARE a code! they read "EUCLIDEAN DEPT OF VISION SUPERVISION" !

The blindeye eye test itself is apparently a ceaser cipher, but i havent found an answer to it yet.

working on adding to this, theres a LOT.